From Debris
by SlyTheUltraNerd
Summary: In the aftermath of the World War Three, the surviving humans face starvation, oppressive factions, and the monsters that now call the world home. But when another war is on the tip of the strings, a young man named Matthias will discover that there is more to the monsters than what the rest of humanity thinks.
1. Introduction: A Brave New World

**Disclaimer: This story is rated M for blood and gore, strong language, and disturbing themes.**

 **Special Thanks to SilentDreamer23 for helping me with editing this chapter. You are awesome!**

* * *

 **From Debris**

 **Introduction: A Brave New World**

"Shh. I heard something. Go check it out, Matthias."

With a grumble, Matthias reluctantly stood up from his spot near the warm bonfire to carry out his orders. He paced himself slowly towards the perimeter of the camp, submachine gun in hand, until his eyes could barely register the light emitting from the fire. He got as close as he could outside the camp, carefully scanning the immediate grassy area before shouting in the most intimidating voice he could muster, "What's the passcode?!"

The sound of leaves crunching responded to Matthias's voice and the rattling of his gun, fearfully sprinting back into the forest before the light of his headlamp could spot it. He stood there, motionless, deciphering every single minute sound with the utmost caution, and watched every single shadow until his pupils were attuned to the darkness of the night. He sighed, apparently satisfied with the area, before returning to his seat of the bonfire where the other man stood on guard, gun at the ready.

"It was nothing," Matthias said calmly before sitting down on his seat, "just some animal."

"Just some animal?" A man repeated, obviously not so relieved from the absence of gunfire from Matthias's investigation. "Don't be an idiot, Matthias! You should've opened fire at the creature, who knows what could've been?! 'Just some animal' bah! I bet that's what they said back at Charlottetown. Yeah, that's what they said, right before the monsters slaughtered them all."

Matthias shook off his partner's insults as he had heard every single one of them since he had taken the job of being a guard not even a year ago. He extended his hands, attempting to escape the winter air by the crackling warmth of the bonfire that lit the area dimly. So dim, that it was nearly impossible to see two yards past the blanket of darkness that shrouded the forest in a black veil. Only sounds were of any importance to the two guards by the fire, as the eyes tend to lie to them, mistaking the harmless and unfamiliar shadows for something much more sinister, or sometimes, the other way around.

"What happened to Charlottetown anyway, Patrick?" Matthias had heard the tale before, but only through the air as rumors from the traveling merchants that stumbled across the town of Whiskey. Even if he had listened to the merchants directly, it still wouldn't have been reliable. Exaggerated stories and hyperboles tended to swindle people more of their precious and hard-earned currency on something as useless as a brass music box, meant only to serve as a relic of the past.

Patrick cleared his throat, thinking for a moment before taking a swig of the alcohol from his silver flask. "What, you haven't heard? The monsters took Charlotteville. And all without laying a single claw or tooth or whatever on the bodies. It was the Illusionists who did it, you know, the ones about as tall as a man with red and black manes. They got through the city's border quite easily, making the guards kill themselves with their own bullets, and all without the other post letting them know. When the other guards found them in their post, they all either shot their own faces with a double barrel, or slit their throats so deep the knife nearly touched the spine."

Matthias was already regretting asking about what had happened to the ill-fated bastards at Charlottetown. With the fact that he was about to lose his dinner, every soft rustle in the forest, every single sign of movement struck fear into his heart. No longer was the warmth of the fire comfortable to him, as the harsh coldness of fear was now running through his veins. The worst part was, it was only the beginning of the tale that is the death of Charlottetown.

Patrick took another swig, now hesitant at every flickering shadow the fire created. "The creatures got into their heads, making them think that their own skin was melting in a raging firestorm, proven by all of them dousing themselves in their own canteen water before they ended their lives. I guess the pain was too much for them to handle for them, so they ended it." The man hung his head in contemplation, only moving once in a while to listen closely to the hell that lies in the forest. He wasn't usually a fearful man, but the creatures that called the abundance of green trees and tall grass home chilled him to the bone. "It then didn't take long for them to reach the city, and when they did…" he trailed off, taking another sip of the putrid smelling whiskey in his little metal flask. God knew he needed it, that is, if he was still watching over the humans after the sins they've committed.

"The men ended the children's suffering first, then their wives, then themselves. Nothing else shed their blood. Not a rat, not bandits, not even the Illusionists. All the blood that was spilled was done so by their own hands, either with guns, knives, or their own fingers. Some of them even dug into their own throats just to end it. The only thing that was unusual about the area was a small tuft of red and black fur caught in a door hinge."

Matthias was nearly trembling in his boots at that point. His body was filling up with adrenaline, making him acute to all small noises as his heart was escaping his chest. If the wind even tapped a branch with a gentle push, he would hear it. His palms became wet with sweat and he tightly clenched the tungsten trigger if his gun. No other person, not even the silver-tongued merchants with their skills in storytelling, could describe the event the way Patrick did. "You're right," he said, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to restore the warmth he once had. "I should've shot the thing, whatever it was."

The area was now tense as the two guardsmen did their job in fear. It didn't assure them that they were out on the fourth mile outpost, the farthest one in their entire force. No one ever got past the eighth mile in the forest, as the unknown of the area sent chills down everyone's spine. Even the most hardest bastard in all of the New World, ones who have been to the irradiated zones and killed countless monsters, would simply stop on the seventh mile nearly halfway through it, staring down the mile as far as their eyes could see before returning back to the camps, without taking their gaze off of the mile.

The very thought of approaching it, especially this late at night, was enough to plague the most heartless and sadistic thing on the planet with nightmares. Even a person who craves the unknown and adventure would not dare go past halfway the seventh mile, and those who were stupid enough to do so would never come back, and made easy meals for the monsters who truly own the forest, and perhaps, the entire country that used to be called "America".

A cry from another human, somewhere three quarters down the third mile called out to the two lone guardsmen, who clinged onto their submachine guns as if they were their only tools for safety and security. "Hey, guys!" it clamored, nearly popping the veins of the two guardsmen, "Did you two find anything?"

Matthias stood in attention, watching as three more armed men approached them. No doubt they were the reinforcements coming to join them in their nightly camp. "I did hear something, but it didn't respond to me asking it the password beside darting off. It wasn't a man, though. It sounded like it ran on four legs instead of two."

"Ha! Or it could have been three," one of the men shouted back in a hysterical manner.

Matthias shuddered. There were rumors about an entire civilization of mutated humans living in the irradiated grasslands of the midwest. Three or four legs and arms, and two heads, all living together in grotesque harmony. Thinking about that didn't really help calm his nerves, especially since he was already tense as his body allowed him to be without his limbs cramping up. The other three men had a much more calmer demeanor as they approached the camp, guns and all.

One of these men, Matthias knew as Thomas, as he was good friends with Matthias's step-father. The other men in Thomas's little gang were known as Damian, and Rick. They were all experienced, having served as guards for the town of Whiskey for nearly six years, and served on the fourth mile roadblock for four years. Yes, no one could shoot straighter, reload faster, or see farther than the "Three Musketeers of Whiskey", a title they were rather fond of, and even used it to get discounts from the sleazy, money hoarding traveling merchants that occasionally dropped by their town.

"What's wrong, Matthias? You look like you've seen a demon!" Thomas said as he perched his rear end on a log, and warmed his open palms near the orange embers of the bonfire.

Matthias shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe I did see a demon, and it scurried off back into the woods to eventually come back with others to kill us," he said, letting his vivid imagination getting the best over him. It was like him, since he was still young and impressionable.

Damian simply chuckled at his remark. "Don't go pissing your pants, kid. You don't want to shoot at demons with a cold spot between your legs," he joked.

Thomas laughed for a short while, "Don't worry, Matthias. Nothing is going to happen to us tonight, as it always has. Even the monsters know not to stick their noses, snouts, and whatever the hell they have where it hurts."

"What about the Illusionists? What if they come, what do we do then?" Matthias asked with fear swelling up in his stomach. "You must've heard what they did to Charlottetown, right?"

"Of course We've heard. Everybody heard," Rick muttered in his harsh, husky voice.

Thomas made a face of encouragement to the young Matthias, who was barely nineteen years of age. "Don't worry, Matthias, no monster will ever consider passing us, not even the Illusionists, alright?"

Damian chuckled softly. The thought of Illusionist amused him, as he believed something like that couldn't exist. Charlottetown was full of crazies anyway, and were foolish enough to get their water from a local source without filtration, so there was no doubt that they slit their own throats due to some New World sickness. "The only thing we should be worried about is the Klan."

He was not wrong about the statement. Ever since the bombs of war desecrated a once fantastic country, it was once thought that humans had finally wiped themselves off the only planet known to support their lives. But humans, as proven by centuries of disasters that befell them, were like cockroaches; you'd never truly rid them of the earth until every single last one has been squashed. And so, like rabbits, repopulation of this brave New World had begun, but it wasn't just humans sprouting back to life like withered trees after a long winter. Ideals, morals, and leaderships followed them, as most people founded their ideals based on those who came before.

The Klan, as their are commonly referred to as, where one of these lucky groups to survive the hellish landscape their ancestors created. Out of all of the groups from the southern area in America, they were the one to finally triumph over these brand new monsters that decided to make their home there.

And while they conquered the southern areas known as Mississippi, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida from the monsters that appeared in the New World, another group emerged with their own ideas and morals. They called themselves the Patriots, and had there own view of resurrecting America. It didn't take long before their expansion met with the Klan's, and so, thanks to their conflicts of interests, war ensued. Another long, and bloody war that shortened the already diminishing population of the human race. Not even the end of the world could stop killings over ideology.

For two years war raged on, and for two years, no one could shift the playing field. Too many lives were lost, maybe thousands on each sides, and no progress was made. So, a compromise was made. The Klan owned the southern states, and the Patriots owned Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina. and Virginia, and a peaceful council state was created in South Carolina. In this council state, it was made clear that peace and trust was to become of these two powerful factions, however fragile it may have been. Everyone knew that the war wasn't truly over, however. Each faction sent spies on the territory, watching, waiting for a chance to strike at a weak point. Sometimes raids would happen on cities, hostages would be taken, and ransoms would be made.

So that's what Damian felt what should be more important at the moment. Their town of Whiskey sat on the edge of Tennessee, close enough to Mississippi as you could get without getting shot down for the different pigment of your skin. It would be an easy raid for the Klan, especially in the dead of night. Luckily, the guards only had one area to worry about, as the clan would never tread near the eighth mile, near the border of Arkansas.

Yes, if there was one thing everyone could agree on, is that this New World truly belong to the monsters that roamed the place. Everything from giant birds to grotesque bugs to sentient pieces peices of garbage, the monsters reigned over the petty little cockroaches called humanity. True, some of them may have been harmless, but those that were dangerous were the epitome of fear. Some could weave great firestorms capable of melting bone, others could destroy the mind, and others could simply rip throats and entrails out the old fashioned way with teeth and claws.

So you could imagine the fear Patrick showed when he heard an all too familiar rustling coming from one of the bushes again. A feeling of impending doom ran across his mind as he stood up from his spot, trembling with fear and the effects of the alcohol running in his system. "Guys," he whispered as quietly as his shaking voice could let out, "I heard something again."

The group was quick to respond, getting up to their feet to approach the mysterious sounds of the night. Again a rustle, and again, fear snuck up on the young Matthias and half drunk Patrick. Any small movement seemed to strike their nerves with a growing sense of uneasiness.

It was then that Thomas, whose heart was made of steel, decided to go and fearlessly check out the sound. He trekked into the darkness for a long while. He went so far that the others could no longer see him, as the light of the fire failed to touch him. A few minutes of silence passed. Then a few more.

It felt nearly as if hours had gone past, and Matthias's legs could barely stand the uneasy silence, as his limbs started to visibly quiver. The other Musketeers simply waited and listened to the silence with stoic expressions, calculating every move they would make if something were to go wrong.

Suddenly, to everyone's surprise, they all heard Thomas's voice cry out. It was not a cry of pain, or a cry of fear, but rather a cry of amusement. Laughter. Thomas returned with a small animal, gray in color with a black face, and yellow eyes with red irises. He raised it up in the air with a big grin on his face. "Ha! Here it is! Here is the deadly beast that has been stalking you! Almost as terrifying and intimidating as a little girl with a teddy bear!" he clamored, easing the tension of the other guards, especially Matthias and Patrick.

The small animal seemed to have some resemblance to a small dog, almost a newborn puppy. When Thomas brought the creature down to his chest, it mercilessly slathered his face with its tongue, eliciting a chuckle from the other Musketeers. Matthias just sat down in relief, chuckling softly at the fact that he nearly pissed his pants to a small and harmless puppy.

Thomas regrouped with the other guards at the bonfire to restore his warmth, letting the creature greet everyone by sniffing their feet and familiarizing their scents. "What kind of dog is it?" Damian asked, cautiously stroking the soft unkempt gray fur on the creature's coat.

Thomas shrugged. "Hell if I know. I actually think it could be one of the dreaded monsters that roam the area."

Rick scoffed. "Then you should put it down. The last thing we want is a whole pack of pissed off monsters."

Thomas kept his calm demeanor, ignoring his partner's comment. "It could be useful, really. At this young, we can make her a fine war dog."

Patrick scooted closer to the fire, warming up his palms after handling the freezing metal of his gun. "So what are you going to name it?"

"Her," Thomas corrected. "And I don't really know, I never thought we'd find a puppy out here," he said, petting the dog with care and respect.

Matthias thought for a moment as he warmed himself by the fire. This was the first monster he'd seen up close, and the first one he found to be friendly, but he guessed it was friendly because of its youth. "What about 'Sirius'? Isn't that like a star or something?" He remembered hearing that from somewhere. Merchants, travelers, and adventurers navigate by using the stars at night, and one of the most important ones was named Sirius. He felt the name was appropriate, as they found her in the dead of night.

Thomas chuckled. "Yeah, I like that. 'Sirius' or we could call her 'Siri' for short."

Damian nearly choked on the whiskey he was downing. "Wait, you're not really considering that, are you, Thomas?"

Thomas shrugged. "Why not? It seems fine, since Sirius is known as the Dog Star, so why not name her after that?"

Damian shook his head. "I feel sorry for your future kids, if you decide to name them something as equally stupid as that."

The group was now relatively silent, either listening to the nightly noises of the forest, telling stories of grand adventures in the wasteland, or drinking the homemade whiskey their town was famous for. Everyone had this sense of ease and safety, as they laughed at each other's tales or said something ridiculous due to the alcohol in their system. All except Matthias, of course.

This was his first night at the outermost guard post, and it didn't help his nerves that it was in the middle of the night for him. Soon, daybreak would come, and all the terrors of the night would be banished from the area, and he could return home to his step-father. Until then however, he would have to stay in the night where anything could be lurking in the shadows, plotting their demise in evil thoughts and only saw them as food for their family. But Matthias wasn't scared of the dark or the things hiding in his closet or under his bed like most people were when they were young and stupid, letting their imaginations run wild. No, it was the unknown that seemed to haunt him wherever he went. He didn't know what could be hiding in the shadows, watching the group as they laughed and drank. He didn't know if a group of Klan members were silently plotting to kidnap them when they least expected it. No, he didn't know that.

It wasn't the monsters that scared him, nor the evil that all people held in their hearts that chilled his bones, and it wasn't even the stories of unexpected deaths of men women and children that got under his skin. It was the silence, the unknown that seemed to seep into his mind and cause fear to well up inside him.

And it was this silence, it was this mystery, it was this _darkness_ , that was truly, and utterly, terrifying.


	2. Chapter 1: The Town of Whiskey

**Chapter 1: The Town of Whiskey**

Sunshine. Warm, brilliant sunshine.

The night was banished, revealing the lush green forest that spanned for miles and miles. Rays of the sun's light pierced through the leaves of the tall trees, and reflected off of the morning dew that started to accumulate. The gentle winter breeze made the branches dance calmly, creating a hypnotic and tranquil movement. Twenty whole years without human industrialization worked wonders in the area. It was hard to believe that monsters actually lived in the woods. They sure picked a lovely spot to hunt down and rip a person's guts out.

Matthias could finally breath much easier now that the comforting sun was in the air, finally destroying the black veil that once shrouded the forest. No longer was that feeling of terror in his mind, no longer was he trembling. He did it! He survived his first night on the Fourth Mile! He was filled with pride, thinking about how his town would respect him for doing them such a service, and how his father would now finally see him as an adult.

Yet, despite this minor victory, he was still anxious. Not only did the small group of humans had to make the trip home first, not only were they still in dangerous territory, _not only_ were Patrick and Damian so shitfaced that they could barely walk straight, but they also had a monster joining them in their journey home. A baby monster, to be more precise, that could still have a family that was desperately searching for their lost youngling, only to find out that it was taken by humans. Matthias didn't know too much about the monsters. No one did, but he did know that taking a child away from its mother was more than enough to screw yourself over.

He wasn't the only one, either. Rick, though he was usually silent for most of the time, started to voice his own opinion on the matter. "You are really doing this, aren't you, Thomas?" He muttered in his low, threatening voice.

Thomas shrugged, carrying the now sleeping dog in his arms. "And why not? It could be useful, you know."

Rick growled. "Did you hit your head or something while searching for that thing?" He stormed up in front of Thomas, grabbing him by the collar of his dirty shirt. "You're going to get us all killed, you dumbass!"

The little dog woke up from her slumber, appearing confused and frightened from Rick's shouting. Thomas simply sighed before stopping in his tracks. Matthias backed away from the duo, and the other drunk guards were too wasted to know what the hell was going on. "Siri was starving, cold, and terrified when I found her. Wherever her pack is, they abandoned her a long while ago."

Rick pushed Thomas threateningly, causing the little pup to growl softly. "See? You even gave it a stupid name! Do you have any idea what that _thing_ is going to turn into when it grows up?"

"Ah shit, not again. That makes three times this week," Damian muttered, finally understanding what was happening, or more specifically, what was about to happen. It was rather common for Thomas and Rick to get into disagreements with each other. In fact, they would almost always settle their differences in fist fights that everyone in town would spectate and even placed bets on the two. And though they did get on each other's nerves, they still managed to settle it one way or another, either by blood or debate, then act like it never happened. An odd friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

Matthias, who wanted to avoid a bloody fist fight between the two Musketeers, attempted to get in between them, but Damian was wise enough to stop him, even in his drunken state. "Trust me, kid. You do not want to get in between this."

Thomas put the pup down on the ground, who started to join the other humans and watch the two settle their argument. "Look, Rick, I know you are concerned, but think of the benefits to be gained from-" He was promptly cut off with a good punch to the face. He quickly recovered just in time to avoid another swing from Rick.

"What benefits?! That we'll have a war dog that will immediately get shot from Kla-" Thomas returned a mean punch right into Rick's nose, causing it to bleed almost instantaneously.

"Yeah! Kick his ass!" Patrick shouted, not making the situation any better. Damian just shook his head in disappointment while Matthias was unsure of what to do in this situation.

The two Musketeers threw punches almost as if they absolutely despised each other. They also tried to knock each other down on the ground to make the job easier. Only a few rules were established when they decided to brawl over arguments: no biting, no groin shots, whoever gets a knockout wins, and whoever gives up has to do the winner's bidding for a day. The matches usually lasted for about five minutes or so before one of them knocked the other out. Currently, Rick was on streak of two wins in a row.

Soon enough, Thomas and Rick both had nasty cuts on both their faces and knuckles, and the collars of their shirts started to get stained with saliva, sweat, and blood. Everyone had to admit that the two both had a tremendous amount of strength and endurance. Matthias wanted them both to stop, as he didn't want them to accidentally kill one another, but seeing how skillful they were at using their fists and feet, he decided against it.

Luckily for him, a voice interrupted their scuffle. "What the hell is going on here!" An older male voice shouted at the two. It came from an older man, probably around his early forties or so, and managed to stop the brawl simply with his voice. He was also joined by four other men, who either laughed at the two, covered their faces with their palms, or even cheered them on sarcastically.

When the two Musketeers caught sight of the man, they immediately stood in attention, and gave a salute to him. "Victor, sir! What brings out here in the forest?" Thomas asked nervously as blood started to drop from his nose. Victor was a well respected man in Whiskey's militia. Some people say that he actually served in the American Military before the world ended.

Victor scoffed. "What, you got all the smarts you barely have kicked out of you? Or do you want the Fourth Mile outpost unguarded so we can let the monsters in to take our kids?"

Thomas sighed. "Yeah, that's right."

"What I want to know is what compelled you two to act like fucking children," Victor said in an annoyed tone.

Matthias decided to explain before the others could respond. "Well, you see sir, they were arguing about this monster..." He pointed at the said monster, who tilted her head innocently as if she had nothing to do with anything.

Victor sighed. "And why are you bringing a monster to our town?" he asked calmly but with an angry undertone, like a father to a disobedient child.

Thomas wiped the blood dripping from his nose. "Well, I thought that we can use it for a war dog. She can be trained to sniff out other monsters or Klan members, then maybe rip their throats out." He glanced at the young pup, who was simply panting and staring absentmindedly back at him.

Victor shook his head. "I personally would've shot that thing long ago, but it's not my decision on what you do to that thing, that job belongs to the mayor. Just make sure it doesn't harm anybody. One scratch, and I'll put it down myself," he warned.

Thomas nodded "Yes sir. She won't harm anybody unless I tell her to." Victor looked at him suspiciously before leading his group of guards towards the Fourth Mile outpost. "Hey kid," Thomas called at Matthias, who stood in attention, "carry Siri for me, will you? I don't want her to taste human blood until the time is right."

Matthias looked at the dog again with uneasiness, who wasn't paying him any attention, and scratched the back of her ear with her hind paw. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said hesitantly. He really didn't want to do it, yet he also did not want to disobey orders. Reluctantly, he quickly lifted the creature, who squirmed in response due to the sheer speed at which he did it. He also held her away from his face, just in case. He didn't want it to bite his nose off, or gouge out his eyes, or something equally as gruesome. As the dog finally calmed down and he felt more comfortable holding it, he brought it closer to his chest, silently whispering prayers that the thing wouldn't kill him.

Without another word from anybody, they all trekked back into their hometown, Whiskey. It took about half an hour to get near the town's borders, and Matthias let out a huge breath of relief when he saw it. He was finally safe from the terrors of the forest.

Unlike other towns where people lived in crumbling motel buildings and tents, Whiskey was built from ground up around an Old World sports bar. Many of the residents lived in small metal shacks that were built simply to live and sleep in. There was nothing fantastic about them aside from the fact that they kept people safe from the rain and had a decent bed to sleep on. There were about forty simple shacks in total, with the town's mayor, Gerald Willis, living in the most decorated one. There was also the bunker, which was a larger building next to the bar that housed the soldiers. Many vendors usually came into the town with their own carts and bodyguards either just outside of town, or near the bar named Figy Pints.

Everyone but the children and crippled had a job to do in the town. From something as simple as a janitor, to something more honorable as being a soldier in the militia. With the metal shacks mainly used as a sleeping area, most, if not everyone, stayed outside for almost the entirety of the day. Because of this, the town seemed more crowded than other towns, despite only having around a hundred people living there.

When the guards returned, they were greeted by a small crowd of people welcoming them with waving hands and smiles. A bell tolled in the distance and signaled the rest of the town of their return. Matthias smiled widely, taking in the small crowd's greeting with pride. He would've waved at people he recognized, but since he was carrying a spawn of hell in his arms (at least in his mind), he did not even attempt it.

Thomas chuckled as he walked back into town. "Well, you guys go on ahead, I have to do something real quick,"

Rick nodded. "Right, I'll lead Patrick somewhere to sober up. Do whatever it is you want to, Thomas, because I want to settle our disagreement."

Thomas nodded before looking at Matthias, who was still holding the dog nervously. "You're with me for the moment, kid."

Matthias simply nodded, unable to reject orders from a superior, before they walked through the semi-crowded streets of Whiskey. Matthias recognized most of the people there, but they all payed more attention to the beloved Musketeer. Thomas simply smiled and nodded at the people who greeted him, but the younger guard was struggling to hold the monster in place, as it seemed to be uncomfortable around a lot of humans.

Eventually, they came across another shack that seemed to be important to Thomas. Before knocking on the door, he glance back at the pup and Matthias. Quickly, he placed his bag on the ground and pulled out a blanket that was normally used to extinguish fires from it. He wrapped it around the dog, and to Matthias's dismay, it started to squirm in response. Thomas quickly calmed it down by shushing sweetly and stroking it slowly. He seemed to have a good connection with it, oddly enough.

Thomas knocked on the door and patiently waited for an answer. A woman, about the same age as Thomas, opened the door and immediately smiled. "Thomas! You're..." she trailed off, staring at the Musketeer's cuts and bruises. "Oh my God, what happened to you?!"

Thomas chuckled. "Nothing serious, Hannah. Rick and I just got a little heated. Again."

Hannah shook her head in disappointment. "I will never understand you two," she muttered. "One of these days you guys are going to end up killing each other."

Despite her disappointment she still hugged Thomas lovingly. "Where's Sasha? Is she awake yet?" he asked.

Hannah broke up the hug and laughed a bit. "To an extent." Hannah went back inside for a moment and returned with a little girl beside her, no more than seven years of age.

She rubbed the tiredness from her eyes before seeing Thomas. "Daddy!" With a big smile and an excited gasp, she clasped her arms around them Musketeer, who had knelt down to return the favor.

Thomas smiled widely, embracing the little girl who had his blonde hair. "How is my little flower, huh?" He asked sweetly.

"I missed you, daddy!" Sasha said. Matthias could barely hear her as she was muffled by Thomas's chest.

Thomas chuckled. "I said I would come back. I always do." He broke up the hug to see his little girl's face. "Hey, I have something to show you. Remember when we read that book together, and you saw that doggy? And you said that you wanted to see a real one?"

Sasha nodded, unsure of what was about to happen. Thomas then stood up and took off the blanket around the pup, revealing it to Sasha and Hannah. They both gasped, one out of fear, the other out of excitement. Sasha jumped and pointed. "Look. mommy, look! A real doggy! A real doggy!"

"Yes. I see it, Sasha," Hannah said in anger.

"Can I pet it, daddy?" Sasha asked innocently.

Thomas immediately shook his head. He may have been dumb enough to actually "recruit" the monster in his little gang, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let children get close enough to touch it, let alone his own daughter. "No, not yet, Sasha. She has to be trained first, and get used to being around people."

The little girl gave a look of disappointment. "Aw, I want to pet the doggy, like in the book!"

Hannah sighed before shooting an irritated look at her husband "Sasha, why don't you go play with the other children?"

"But I want to pet the doggy."

"No, Sasha. Go out and play while I talk to your father," Hannah ordered. As soon as Sasha walked away in annoyance, it was time for Hannah to say something to her husband. "What the hell are you thinking, Thomas? First, you come back looking like you've been through hell, and then you come home with that?"

Thomas sighed. "I made her a promise, Hannah. You know I keep my promises."

Matthias backed away a little bit. Seeing disputes like this always seemed to make him uncomfortable. "Oh, so to fulfill a promise, you bring a dangerous monster in our town? Near our own home?!"

Thomas sighed. "It's not dangerous, Hannah. She's a little, lost kid. Perfectly harmless," he assured petting the creature gently.

Hannah scoffed. "Oh, so it's a 'she'?! Well, that's nice to know. Hey, maybe you should find a little male monster in case she gets lonely! And then we can have little baby monsters running around our home!" Thomas stepped back a little with a scared look on his face. His heart was made of steel, yet he looked like he was about to wet his pants thanks to his angry wife. "I hope you already gave _her_ a name then."

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "Actually, I-"

"Oh God, don't even tell me," Hannah said, putting her hand over her face. "Do you have any idea on what that thing can do?"

Thomas grabbed her shoulders, attempting to calm Hannah down a bit. "Look, I know it seems crazy, but we can really use her. Winter is already here, so we have to eventually go the caves to hunt for food, and she can help us with that. I already thought this all through."

Hannah sighed. "Did you? Did you really?"

Thomas pulled her closer, hugging her lovingly. "Yes, I have. If she does anything to harm one of ours, I'll put her down myself, okay? Trust me on this, it can really help our town."

Hannah shook her head before she embraced him back. "You are the biggest idiot in the world. You know that right?"

Thomas chuckled. "Then what does that make you?"

"A woman who was fooled by looks rather than smarts," she quipped with a smile.

Thomas gave her forehead a quick peck with his lips. "I'll take that as a compliment." He looked at Matthias, who was still paying more attention towards the dog that could bite his face off rather than the couple's small talk. "Come on, kid, let me take her now. Siri and I have some work to do. And give me that gun too before you get in trouble."

Matthias silently thanked God as he returned the dog to Thomas. "Yeah, here. Take her." He also unwrapped the submachine gun off his back to return it to him.

Thomas grabbed the dog and wrapped her in his arms, before strapping the gun on his shoulder. She did seem to be more comfortable with him than Matthias. "Tell your father that I said 'hi' when you see him."

Matthias saluted. "Yes sir!" he said formally. Thomas nodded with a smile before wandering to the bunker, where all the soldiers usually go to.

With a relieved breath, Matthias headed for the bar near the center of town. He was now a free man in terms of finishing his job as a guard for the day. He was actually quite proud of himself and he had hoped his step-father would feel the same way. He has always been their to support him ever since he was little.

Matthias never knew his real parents, as his actual hometown was burned to the ground by monsters when he was just a baby, but Linus, his step-father, did treat him well enough. Matthias thought about the look Linus was going to give him when they reunited as he traveled the crowded streets of his town.

His musings were interrupted by a loud ringing bell, which signalled more guards returning home. Excited to see his fellow partners, he stood next to the small crowd of people who had gathered to see the returning heroes. These were guards stationed at the area known as "The Winding Road", and were considered to be the best of the best, as the Road was home to a lot more exotic and terrible monsters. Matthias smiled widely when he caught sight of the men and women marching home.

It quickly faded as the grouped arrived closer to town.

Alongside the soldiers who wielded grim expressions, were people carrying stretchers covering humanoid figures in white, blood-stained sheets. The soldiers that were alive didn't fair much better. Most of them were covered in bloody rags, some were limping and struggling just to walk, and others were simply carried, unable to use their legs. Some of them had rags wrapped around their eyes, and were forced to hold someone's shoulder to navigate properly. Others had white gauze tightly wrapped tightly around bloody stumps where their limbs used to be. It was a grim and terrible sight to behold, and soon, the metallic stench of blood flooded the town, causing people to exit their homes to see what was causing the foul smell.

A woman, scarred and experienced, walked up to the pained man leading the group of people. When he noticed her, he stopped in his tracks to salute. "Commander!" he acknowledged, trying to hide his pain.

The commander took a moment to look at the sight before her. "Captain," she asked in a monotonous voice, "what happened out there?"

The captain seemed to shudder at recalling the events. The pain seemed to be getting to him, as he winced a bit when trying to speak. "The, the monsters, at- attacked us at the second mile, m'am. It w- was the Blade Bugs. They c- came out of nowhere and st- started to slaughter us." He couldn't handle the pain anymore, and broke his salute to grasp his chest.

The commander held an emotionless expression, seemingly unfazed by the captain breaking his salute. "How many casualties?"

The captain started to catch his breath. He turned for a moment to look at the mangled bodies and corpses. "Fifteen dead, the rest of us injured," he said.

Matthias was taken aback by this. At the Road, outposts usually had around twenty to twenty-five people on guard, due to the danger of the area. These were supposed to be the best of everybody; people who have killed Klan and monsters alike. Hell, the Musketeers acquired their skills from there. Yet fifteen of them were easily hunted down by monsters, and now they were too close for comfort. He felt fear at the monster's abilities, and anger for them killing the people of his town.

The commander sighed, seemingly in a sympathetic way towards the injured captain. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "You and your men get some rest, Captain. I'll see to it that the fallen get proper treatment," she said, showing a little emotion in her voice. The captain nodded before he led the remaining group down to the barracks to get patched up. The commander started to lead the ones holding the stretchers of corpses to the burning site, where they would be cremated. Buried bodies tend to attract monsters closer to the town.

The crowd started to whisper to one another, some out of sympathy, others of sorrow. Matthias heard something else however. "Some soldiers they were," a man whispered. Matthias looked at the man beside him, who was leaning in to another man's ear. He must've been a merchant of some kind, since he never looked like he had gotten even close to the town's borders. Matthias could tell, since his clothes were mostly clean, he had an unscarred face, and no dead or frightened look in his eyes. "Eat our food, drink our water, yet they can't even do their jobs correctly. Serves them right, I say."

Matthias pushed the man, obviously offended by his foul words. "What gives you the right to say that! If it wasn't for them, you wouldn't be here!"

The man, surprised by this assault, gritted his teeth in anger. When he saw that Matthias was the one to push him, his anger subsided and he simply laughed. "Look, kid, if it wasn't for _me_ , this town wouldn't exist, so don't tell me what I'm not allowed to say! At least I can do my job like I'm supposed to. Besides, those idiots were probably drunk, they always are with their lazy asses."

Matthias clenched his fists, feeling the tempting urge to break the man's nose. Scoffing, Matthias turned around to avoid a conflict. He had already gotten into trouble that week, and he wasn't about to add assault or attempted murder to the list of things he had done wrong. He ignored the man's comments as he stormed off back home to his father's bar.

For the most part, he kept his head down and tried to calm down so he wouldn't release his anger somewhere important. People we gathered around certain parts of the town. Adults were either doing jobs such smithing jewelry, weapons, or other things with old metal, and children were playing games with each other or listening to the older residents' stories.

Eventually, Matthias reached his destination: the bar called Figy Pints. It was named after the special type of berries that grew near the town, which they fermented and made into the spicy alcohol that gave the town its name. While Mayor Willis technically owned and founded the bar, it was Matthias's step-father, who managed the place. The Mayor was even kind enough to let them both live in the bar, then again, Linus did know him for a long time. In a way, Matthias considered the Mayor as an uncle, but he usually had too many tasks to deal with to form an actual bond with him.

The familiar stench of alcohol invaded the young man's nostrils as he entered his home. It was crowded with people laughing, drinking, and telling grand or ridiculous tales to each other. Matthias usually hated the noise, especially since this was his actual home, but since he had become a guard, he now found the racket quite comforting. He quickly found his father, who was busy wiping off a shot glass with a rag behind the bar table in the center of the building. When the bartender glanced at his son, his eyes immediately brightened, and a warm smile formed on his chiseled face.

He stepped out from behind the bar to greet Matthias in a loving hug, which he gladly returned. "Everyone!" He addressed the whole bar, which went completely silent. "My son has returned from the fourth mile!"

The whole bar cheered simultaneously, lifting their glasses in the air as they did. Matthias smiled proudly. Linus placed his hands on his shoulders before leading him behind the bar with a wide smile. "How are you, my son?"

Matthias couldn't help but smile. This was probably the first time he had done something to be considered "honorable" in a long time. He was finally becoming someone in life. "I'm great, dad, thanks. How are you?"

Linus chuckled. "Well, I'm fine now. I don't think I got any sleep last night thanks to you," he pushed Matthias's shoulder with his fist. "So how was it? The Fourth Mile?"

Matthias scratched his head as his father started to resume his job whilst having a conversation with him. "Everything they said it would be: dark, cold, and terrifying."

"Really? That bad, huh?" Linus said while pouring more drinks for the customers at the bar.

Matthias shrugged. "Well, not at first. It got uncomfortable after Patrick told me what happened to Charlottetown."

Linus took a moment to talk to his son face to face, showing a saddened expression at what his son said. "Ah, right. I heard what happened to those people. Damn shame, really." He started to pour another shot, even though no one asked him to. "Right when the Patriots were about to annex them too."

He gave the shot to Matthias, who took a look at the liquid in the glass. "Wait, the Patriots were going to annex them?" he asked before swallowed the shot.

Linus made a sound of affirmation. "Yeah, they are expanding territory near here. Won't be long before they annex us either, and that means we have to switch to the dollar and pay their damn taxes." He took a shot himself. "Go ahead and call me a socialist, but I like living independent from them. I don't want them dragging us to their godforsaken war between those extremists."

Matthias simply chuckled and shook his head. He wasn't one for politics, and frankly, he didn't really care if the Patriots decided to claim their territory, as long as they weren't used for the frontline in their war. "Yeah, but at least being annexed is better than getting killed by monsters," he said.

Linus chuckled before patting his son's shoulders. "Well, that's what you here for, ain't it?"

Matthias returned the chuckle and nodded. "I guess so. 'Matthias the Soldier'. I think that name suits me well."

Linus laughed heartily. "And here I thought I was going to pass down this hole to you. Well, at least you are doing something productive!"

Matthias laughed with his father while he poured another shot for the two of them. "Be careful, old man," he said when Linus scarfed down his drink, "you don't want to be wasted on the job."

Linus gave his son an amused look. "What do you take me for, a lightweight? I've been drinking this stuff for years, and two shots sure as hell ain't enough to even get me buzzed!" He smacked Matthias on the back while he was drinking, nearly letting him choke. "It's you who should be the one worried about getting wasted. Back in the old days, you'd be underaged!"

Matthias and Linus talked to each other as they both served drinks to the patrons. Matthias told his father about his experience in the Fourth Mile with greater detail, including Patrick's take of the Illusionists, which Linus simply laughed at. "An extreme over exaggeration," he called it. It was apparent to everyone around the bar that they cared about each other greatly. It was quite amazing really, since Linus wasn't really his father, and he didn't have a mother to speak of. Yet, Matthias loved him probably more than anything.

Suddenly, a woman entered the bar along with two armed soldiers behind her back. When the people in the bar noticed her, they immediately grew silent. Matthias recognized the woman almost instantaneously. She was the commander that was talking to the injured captain who arrived earlier into town. The images of the corpses and dying soldiers flashed back into his mind, causing him to almost feel sick to his stomach.

She looked around the bar which was now eerily quiet. "I have some news for you all!" she shouted, so that everyone in the bar could hear her. "If you haven't already heard, the second mile on the Road has been ambushed by monsters, and they nearly killed everyone stationed there! In total, fifteen men were killed, and seven more were severely injured!" Everyone remained silent as she spoke, not even making a sound at this shocking information.

She continued, "Because of these casualties, we don't have the sufficient amount of soldiers we need to clear them out of the second mile, which we have reason to believe that they are nested there! So, I come here today to see if there is any volunteers willing to give their lives for the sake of everyone in town. Is there anyone here willing to stand up to these creatures?!"

There was quiet murmur in the air as people in the bar whispered to each other. One man stood up from his seat spontaneously. "I volunteer!" He shouted with a stoic expression.

Another man stood up as well. "I volunteer!"

A woman stood up from the crowd as fearlessly as the other two men. "I volunteer!"

Matthias stood and watched as people stood from their seats one by one, willing ready to sacrifice their petty lives for the sake of their home. There was a sudden urge that welled up inside him. Sure, he did fear the monsters, but something wanted his to avenge his fallen brothers. He found himself raising his hand in the air with all the others. "I volunteer!" He shouted

"Matthias, what are you doing?!" His father whispered frantically. Matthias ignored him and stared straight ahead.

Ten people, including Matthias, were either brave or stupid enough to stand from their seats and raise their arms. The commander still bore her emotionless expression as she gazed over the group. "Is that all?!" She shouted. No one else seemed to respond to her. She took a moment to look at the the volunteers, judging their strength and resolve simply by their appearances. She sighed quietly. "Alright then! Those who have volunteered will meet us by the gate no less than ten minutes from now! You will all be provided the equipment needed to purge these creatures! We will brief you once you're there!"

Most of the volunteers promptly left the bar along with the commander and her soldiers. Matthias attempted to leave as well, but was stopped by a hand grasping his arm. He turned around to see his father wield a worried expression. "Are you crazy, Matthias?! You are going to get yourself killed!"

Matthias shook off his father's hand. "I thought I was old enough to make my own decisions." He muttered.

Linus shook his head. "Not yet you're not. I wasn't fine with letting you tread on the Fourth Mile, and I am not letting you go anywhere near the Road!"

"I can handle myself, dad! I can kill those things, I know I can!"

"Can you?" Linus grabbed his son's shoulders, "And even if you can, _should_ you? Why do you feel the need to put yourself in danger by this?"

Matthias thought for a moment. Images of those dead soldiers flashed into his mind. He could imagine them burning into ash as their children, wives, or husbands watched. He was scared, terrified even, but he wanted, no, _needed_ to avenge them. Not for him, but for his town. For their families.

Matthias looked straight into his father's eyes. "I want to repay them."

Linus looked confused. "What?"

"I want to repay them, dad. You didn't see them coming back home in pieces, even the living soldiers. They willingly gave up their lives to protect us, so that we could be safe from those monsters." He sighed deeply. "I want to repay them by doing the same. They protected us ever since this town was founded, now I want to protect it." A small, confident smile formed on his lips. "I want to become a soldier."

Linus seemed to be in contemplation. Matthias loved him, but he wanted to grow up already and be his own man. His father had to let him have that, right? Besides, Matthias was stubborn, and almost everyone knew it. If he set his mind to do something, he got it done, now matter how long or complicated it was. He could remember when he was a young kid, somewhere around eight or nine, he wanted to grow his own Figy Berry plant. His first plant was a complete failure, not even growing a sprout. He had wasted months of his life growing a dead plant, but did he give up? No. Instead, he ended up saving scrap metal to trade to a merchant for the best fertilizer in town, and started read gardening books that he could barely understand. It took years, when he was finally thirteen, until he got his plant. It was a crappy, small plant, just barely big enough to grow one tiny berry, but he did it and he was proud of it. "Like a hungry mosquito trying to bite your face," his father used to say about him.

Linus sighed deeply before patting Matthias's shoulders once more. "Fine. If you're going to be a soldier, then I can't stop you." Matthias smiled, thankful that his old man finally came to his senses. "But, if your are to become a soldier, then you are going to need a reliable weapon."

Linus quickly reached for a locked compartment under the par and pulled out a sheath that had a gun in it. He pulled the weapon from its holster, revealing it to Matthias, who was staring at it with wide eyes. It looked like it was once a .44 magnum revolver, but it had some heavy modifications. The original handle was removed, and replaced with handle with a stock. It also had a forestock and a much longer barrel than the original gun had. If anything, it was more of a rifle than a simple hand cannon. "I bought this from a merchant a couple of years ago to use for protecting the bar, if needed. Hasn't been fired since the day it was made, so it is much more reliable than those dirty submachine guns they'll issue you." He placed the gun back into its holster, then handed it to Matthias. "Here, I want you to take it."

Matthias took the gun, almost speechless. It was a beautiful weapon indeed, shiny and new looking. Guns like that were such a rarity in the New World, and were considered to be invaluable. He wondered how much whiskey his father had to trade in order to obtain it. Linus brought out a box from the compartment. "You're also going to need these." The box had a faded American eagle painted on it, and inside were a bunch of shiny brass bullets. "A small box of fifty rounds. If these things were good enough to stop a charging bull back then, they're good enough for stopping monsters now."

Matthias hugged his father with joy. "Thank you. Thank you so much for this!"

Linus returned the hug. "Just promise me one thing. You better come home."

Matthias chuckled. "I will. I promise I'll be back home before dinner."

Linus hugged his son as tight as he could before releasing him. "Stay safe, my son."

Matthias turned around to finally leave his home. "I will. See you later, dad!" He wrapped the holster with his new gun around him, so that the stock was extending to his right shoulder. He grabbed the small bag that he used to carry supplies while he was out on guard, and stuffed the box of bullets in it. He gave one final wave to his father, then headed outside.

He immediately was greeted by the brisk breeze of the winter air and the warming rays of the sun. He already saw a couple of people heading to the gate near the Road. With a deep breath, he followed them to meet the crowd of people gathering there to wait for orders. At face value, it seemed like a simple job. All he had to do was kill a group of monsters, then return home. It should've been easy.

Little did he know about the hell that was patiently waiting for him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hey guys, sorry for this abrupt note, but I just wanted to say a couple things. First, thanks for all the support you guys have shown. I loved reading those constructive comments, even though there's like a couple of them, and I'm actually surprised that this received as much attention as it did. You guys are great!

Second, and probably the most important, I will have to be on a short hiatus for a while. I have midterm exams coming up right after PSATs, and my brain wants to go crawl in a corner and die for a while. I know it took me like two weeks to update this, but now it will be a little longer before I update again. I am really sorry about this.

Finally, special thanks to SilentDreamer23 for helping me with editing. You are awesome, dude!

Thanks for all your support and patience. Until next time!


	3. Chapter 2: Men and Beasts

**Chapter 2: Men and Beasts**

There was a time, long before the bombs of war poisoned the earth, where people were revered for defending their country and were exalted when they died for it. A time when one would prove their honor and glory by their fearless and selfless acts. A time when people stood and saluted strangers simply because they were considered to be heroes. Heroes who valiantly volunteered to do what others did not want to do. Heroes who had kept their families and other families safe from the harshness of war. Heroes who had the gall to do what was right, even when nobody else wanted to.

That is what drove young Matthias as he marched towards his comrades. He smiled at the thought of coming home in open arms as crowds gathered to cheer for him and his partners. The thought of feeling glory and honor, the thought of being respected by his peers, the thought of being a _hero_ filled him with determination.

He quickly noticed the small crowd of people gathering near the gate that lead to the Road. He recognized most of the faces there, but he didn't know any of them personally. That was until he caught sight of Patrick, who seemed more apprehensive than usual. With a friendly smile, Matthias travelled to his comrade. "Hey, Patrick!"

The older soldier made a slight frown when he noticed Matthias. It didn't assure him knowing that most of the crowd was inexperienced. "Oh, hi, kid," he muttered nervously.

Matthias patted him on the back, aware of his nervousness. "What's wrong, Pat? You look like you're about to pass out."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "What _isn't_ wrong? Look around! Most of these people haven't even touched a gun in their lives, and we have to go clear out a bunch of monsters with them." He scoffed. "They might as well send children with fuckin' sticks."

Matthias was taken aback by his comment, as Patrick didn't seem to care who was listening to him. He was also aware of the obvious fear welling up inside of the soldier. When Patrick was guarding the border at night, he was always cold and cynical, like he always is, easing the tension with comments and criticisms no one cared about. He wasn't scared like Matthias was unless he knew something was scuttling around in the dark. So, seeing him like this brought a feeling of anxiety to Matthias. "If you're so sure about our failure," the young man said, "then why did you volunteer?"

Patrick was laughing while the was asked the question to him, as if he was expecting it. "Do you really think that I volunteered to join this suicide run?" He chuckled once more. "Kid, I am obligated to be here. As a soldier it is…" he cleared his throat, then made a half-assed impression of the town's mayor, "My civic duty to serve and protect the good people of Whiskey!" He scoffed and shook his head.

Matthias felt a bit of sympathy towards the soldier. He was stupid for forgetting exactly why Patrick was a soldier in the first place. He must've sounded like an asshole. "Sorry," he apologized with sincerity.

Patrick shot him an odd look since he didn't anticipate for an apology. He shook it off with a sigh. "Why? There is nothing for you to be sorry about. Look, no offense, kid, but I do not need or want your sympathy. What I did has absolutely nothing to do with you, so stay out of it."

"Uh, right," Matthias said nervously. He started to sweat due to the awkwardness he created, and tried to think of something to change the subject. "So, uh… what are Blade Bugs exactly?"

Patrick shook his head and sighed, annoyed by something. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we keep the names for these creatures as simple as possible for a reason. They are bugs." He paused for a moment and held out his arm. "With blades on them."

Matthias took Patrick's cynical comment with a smile, as he seemed to forget about his ignorance. "Yeah, I thought as much, heh. But, do you know what they look like? Have you even seen one before?"

"Christ kid, you sure love to ask questions," the soldier said. He contemplated for a moment about taking a quick sip of his alcohol, but he decided against it. He didn't want a scolding from Sergeant, wherever she was. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have seen and killed some. They look like… well…" He placed his hand on his chin in thought, trying to think of the words used to describe such a creature. "Okay, imagine if a giant wasp and a giant lizard got a little freaky, then you'll get a Blade Bug."

Matthias cringed. The thought of a lizard and a wasp "gettin' freaky" was the last thing he wanted on his mind. Patrick continued, "Their whole arms are basically giant swords that cut through anything. And I do mean anything. Guns, armor, bones, you name it."

Matthias started to see why Patrick had no faith in their squadron. "But, they can be killed, right?"

"Sure, but they're fast as shit. I've seen one slice a man in half with one strike!" He traced his finger across his chest. "Right through clothes, armor, and organs. Poor bastard probably didn't feel anything."

"That's enough, private. Stop scaring the kid and everyone else," a familiar voice ordered. Matthias smiled widely as he saw that it came from Thomas, the Musketeer. He was also followed by Damian.

Patrick stood up straight and cleared his throat. "Sorry, sir, but he literally kind of asked for it," he said, trying to justify his actions.

"He's right, sir. I did ask for it," Matthias said, trying to avoid getting his comrade into trouble. Thomas smiled at him, chuckling silently to himself over his curiosity. "So," Matthias started another conversation in an attempt to forget what he was going to fight for a moment. "Where's Rick? Is he taking care of your monster?"

Thomas's smile faded and quickly became a soulless expression. It was silent for a moment, or as silent as it could be in the middle of a large crowd, before Damian decided to answer. "Well, kid, that monster is not going to be with us anymore. Ever."

Matthias lost his usual smile, which was replaced with a frown. Even though he didn't much care for the creature, Thomas seemed to actually establish a relationship with it. "Did it…do something?"

Damian scratched the back of his head, thinking of a way to explain what happened without offending Thomas. "Well, not exactly."

Thomas scoffed. "Not exactly?" He clenched his fist. "She didn't do anything at all! I tried to convince the Mayor about all the benefits Siri could bring, but it seems our fearless founder is scared of a tiny puppy!"

Matthias grew more depressed seeing his superior act like this, especially since he and the other Musketeers partly inspired him to become a soldier in the first place. "They didn't kill it, did they?"

Damian slowly shook his head. "No, they didn't. Instead we caged it up and decided to sell it to the Patriots. Their arena fights are quite popular, due to all the exotic monsters that can be found here. Not saying that our monster was exotic, but it should still fetch us a nice price."

Thomas chuckled sarcastically. "Yeah, instead of killing her, we decided to sell her to abusive masters who will force her to kill. A fate worse than death, if you ask me."

Patrick growled. "Jesus Christ, can you just calm down?! It's just a stupid animal!"

Thomas clenched his fist harder and gritted his teeth. It was clear that he really want to bloody Patrick's nose. Yet, despite his urge to do so, he seemed to calm down a bit and simply sighed. "You know what? You're right. It was just a stupid animal," he said calmly. He stared straight into the Patrick's face, showing no emotion. "But look around you. Twenty years ago we were high in our prime, living life like nothing was going to happen. Now look at us."

Thomas pointed out towards the town, specifically the slums of the already struggling area. "Most of us are living in our own shit, terrified of these 'animals' that roam these woods. They've been in control of us for twenty years now, so if they really are stupid animals, then what does that make us?"

Everyone who was listening to his rant remained silent. That was until Patrick made a slight chuckle. "Then what do you suppose we do? Communicate with them? Walk right up in their nest and go 'Excuse us, kind Blade Bugs but we couldn't help but notice that you _murdered_ our people in cold blood. We don't like that, so uh, may you please not kill us and take your business elsewhere? Thanks!'"

Thomas crossed his arms, annoyed with the soldier. "I'm telling you, these creatures aren't just mindless killing machines. You saw the fear Siri showed while I carried her around. Matthias felt her fear when he held her. If these things can feel emotions like that, who's to say that we can't befriend one? Why can't we at least try?" His voice sounded more empathetic than angry.

Patrick scoffed. "I see countless men and women get killed by these things everyday. Either their throats get ripped open, or acid melts their faces off, it doesn't matter since it gets the same result. And what pisses me off is that you get to see the worst of it, Musketeer!" Patrick clenched his fist. "I am forced to be here, or else I'll get the noose, but you? You _volunteered_ to be here, yet here you are complaining away about how you don't want to kill them. Which, by the way, is your fucking job!"

Thomas seemed to have enough and confronted Patrick by standing in front of him with a threatening demeanor. The crowd made a circle around the two, anticipating a violent fight to break out. "My job," Thomas growled, "no, _our_ job, is to protect these people however we can. I feel that at least trying to tame one of these creatures can benefit us greatly. And you know what, maybe I am wrong, but why can't we at least try? For the good of everyone?"

Patrick got in a stance to fight. Matthias backed up into the crowd to stay away from the two's inevitable throwdown. "You're delusional. All those things know how to do is kill."

"Oh, really? Or maybe they just wanted payback for our mistreatment of them." Thomas smirked. "Well, doesn't that sound familiar, Patrick?"

Patrick's unbridled rage could be seen through his eyes. "Go to hell!" He charge at the soldier and grabbed the collar of his shirt, attempting to drag the Musketeer on the ground.

Thomas struggled to keep himself vertical while Patrick pushed up against him and tried to knee his abdomen. Thomas dodged most of the brutal kicks while attempting to swing a fist at his assailant, who was keeping his head under his own shoulders. As they got closer to the crowd, who were either cursing them or cheering them on, people cleared the way for them to fight alone.

A solid kick to Thomas's navel forced him to gasp for air, but it seemed like he wasn't about to give up. He punched Patrick in the face before grasping his neck with his fingers. Everyone knew that the fight was going to end in a bloodbath.

A clap of thunder interrupted the brawl before serious damage could be done. A woman, aging and knowledgeable, approached the two soldiers with a rageful scowl on her weathered face, and a pistol with smoke seeping from the barrel on her right hand. Matthias shuddered when he realized who she was. Seeing her up close brought about a wave of anxiety, like that of looking on the edge of a cliff. The end of your life just a couple of steps away.

"Private!" She yelled whilst holstering her side arm. Patrick stood at attention with a blank face but hatred in his eyes. It was clear that she may have been the last person he wanted to see.

He saluted his superior before responding, "Sergeant, ma'am!"

Sergeant glared at the soldier. "Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on here?" She asked in a stone cold calmness that masked her fury.

Patrick didn't even flinch. He kept staring straight into her eyes like she was nothing more than a nuisance. "The Musketeer and I got into…a heated argument." He glanced at Thomas in a quick second before returning his gaze to Sergeant. He broke his salute to tend to his neck, which was bruised by the Musketeer's grip. He took his eyes off Sergeant to stare at Thomas. "With all due respect, ma'am, he was asking for it," he said nonchalantly.

Sergeant blinked only once, but otherwise did not react to his obvious disrespect. She simply approached him calmly without taking her eyes off him. Silence invaded the group of humans as they watched. It seemed as if minutes passed while she slowly approached the soldier without taking her dark, beady eyes off of him, like a hawk tracking a mouse. She stopped nearly inches in front of Patrick, and their eyes locked on to each other. A painful sensation was welling up inside Matthias's gut.

Suddenly, Sergeant punched the soldier with all her might, knocking him down on the ground. In addition, she kicked him in the stomach, forcing him to yelp in agony. She then forced him to lie on his stomach with her boot, then pulled out her pistol, aiming for his head.

"Do you know how much easier it would be if I killed you right now, Mr. Mort? Do you know how little your life means to us?" She said in a calm, monotonous voice. She added pressure to his back, forcing him to grunt in pain again. "You're nothing more than a goddamn tool, Private. You are easily disposable. Once you become useless and worn out, you'll be thrown away and forgotten like the piece of shit you are. If it wasn't for your shooting skills, you'd be hanging from a goddamn tree right now." She released him from her boot. "I have the power to not only end your life, but to also make you wish it would end." She crouched down and face the soldier, whose mouth was bleeding slightly. "So, if I were you, I'd choose my next actions very, _very_ carefully."

She stood up and took one final look at Patrick when he coughed up blood. "With all due respect," she said, "you asked for this." Sergeant placed her sidearm where it belonged whilst glaring at Thomas, who stood still and straight. "And you, 'Musketeer'," she growled. "If I ever catch you assaulting one of my soldiers again, I'll make sure that you will be cleaning shit for the rest of your life." Thomas held no expression, but he visibly swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. "Do I make myself clear?"

Thomas looked straight into her eyes, a feat that only a few people could manage. "Yes, ma'am," he said confidently.

Sergeant wasn't at all glad about his loyalty, but she seemed contented. "Good. Then I need you with me on the front lines."

"Yes, ma'am," Thomas responded.

Sergeant nodded. "Now, listen up! All of you!" She shouted. Every single person stood in attention, none of them wanting to look at Sergeant in her eyes. They all stood quiet and waited for her command. "This is going to be a simple extermination mission. Once we approach the sight, I need everyone as silent as possible; no one shoots unless I say so. And if any of you decide to not follow my orders, I might just kill you myself." She looked around to study the people she would be leading. "None of you are heroes." She pushed forward in front of the group, just past the gate leading to The Road. "Grab your gear and let's move!" she shouted.

Everyone either replied with a hearty "Yes ma'am," or stayed silent. Matthias quickly moved to help up Patrick. With a painful groan, he managed to pick himself up, wrapping his right arm over Matthias's shoulders.

He growled silently. "Fucking bitch," he muttered as he spat blood on the ground. His teeth, which were not the greatest sight to begin with, were stained with a dull amber hue due to the blood.

Matthias could smell the metallic odor coming from Patrick's breath and his face scrunched in response. He always seemed to get sick from smelling the foul, crimson liquid. "You shouldn't call her that. Who knows what might happen when she hears you."

Patrick scoffed. "I don't care what she does. She can cut off my arm, and I'll still call her a bitch."

Damian chuckled. "Keep up with that attitude, and she might tear off more than just your limb, buddy."

"Well, she and Thomas can go fuck themselves for all I care. If there is a God watching over us, then they'll die today," Patrick said with hatred.

Matthias wanted to say something, but decided against it. Patrick just went through a lot of shit and just needed to vent. Surely, he didn't really want them to die a painful death. Right?

Damian tapped Matthias's shoulder. "Hey kid. I see you got a new piece. Where'd you get it from?"

The young man cracked a small smile. "My dad gave it to me. He said he bought it from a merchant. You can check it out if you want."

Damian nodded before taking the rifle out of its holster. He fondled with it carefully, inspecting it like a jeweler with a diamond. He seemed to admire its unique beauty. "This is in almost perfect condition! Must've costed your old man a fortune, huh?"

"I guess. He didn't really say how much he paid for it," Matthias said. Patrick finally was able to stand on his own, but still felt the pain of Sergeant's boot on his stomach. "You alright, Pat?"

Patrick mumble something before answering, "Yeah, just fine. Thanks, kid."

Damian took one final look at Matthias's gun before returning it to him. "That's a nice gun, kid. Make sure to take good care of it."

Matthias nodded with a slight smile of pride before placing his weapon back where it belonged.

As the group of humans left the gate, the sentinels guarding the entrance gave everyone who passed it the standard issue submachine guns. When Matthias received his, he felt something he had yet to acknowledge when he decided to partake in this mission. Once he went passed this point, there was no turning back. He stared at the battered and old MP5 for what seemed like an eternity. Fear started to enter his mind, especially now that he couldn't turn back.

A friendly pat on the back interrupted his trance. "Don't worry, kid." Damian said. "We'll be fine."

Matthias smiled finally. With his friends around to get his back, he had nothing to worry about. Everything was going to be fine. "Yeah. We'll kill those things, then come back home as heroes," he said excitedly.

Patrick looked at the two with a stoic expression. He thought of them both as naive, and were therefore likely to get killed first. He had seen it too many times in his tour of forced duty. People who believed they had a chance who were then killed ten minutes later. He had seen people lose their faith in God or humanity so many times, that it now seemed to be routine on every mission. He didn't say anything to them, however, as he believed their false sense of hope was their only reason to fight. He shook his head.

Damian chuckled at his young comrade, and was happy that at least someone believed in them. As someone who liked to consider himself as a logical person, he had a feeling that the odds were against them, and feared the worst. But seeing someone smile in the face of danger sort of inspired him in a way. It reminded him of his own hopes of coming home to a family, one that he had yet to start. He chuckled silently to himself at the thought, oddly optimistic about its chance of becoming a reality.

And then there was Matthias, whose dreams seemed to already become reality. He swore to himself that after this mission, he would enlist to become a soldier. He would come home to see his own father look up to him as a person to be respected and admired. He knew, that on this day, he was to find his purpose in life. On this day, he would become a hero. He smiled widely.

And so, these three men followed the crowd of people into the dreaded forest on a mission to kill dreaded monsters. Each of them with their own will to fight, and thought that they were ready to die for their people. Well, all except for Patrick, of course.

As time seemed to pass on, Matthias decided to marvel at his surroundings. Despite the cold winter, some of the trees still had their bright, evergreen color, hiding the naked ones from sight. They all seemed to twinkle as icicles that formed from the morning frost dangled from their needle-like leaves and branches. The area just outside of town was always quiet, since the monsters had yet to attack Whiskey directly. It was something straight out of the bedtime stories his stepfather used to tell him. He couldn't wait until spring or autumn, when the forest would show its true beauty.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Patrick said, earning a happy look from Matthias. "Back in the old days, you'd never get lost no matter how far you went, thanks to GPS's. I once knew a kid who ran away from home to get here. His parents flipped their shit for about a week 'til he came back."

Matthias became curious. Being only nineteen, he had never seen the Old World in his life. "What's a GPS?"

Damian chuckled. "A global positioning system," he explained. "They were basically electronic maps that knew exactly where you were in the world. Now they're just used as overpriced paperweights."

Patrick continued his reminiscing. "Back then, the only thing you had to worry about was bears. Nowadays, you're lucky if you aren't killed by a mutant a mile away from town."

Damian sighed. "Sorry to be a downer, but being nostalgic isn't going to bring the past back."

Patrick chuckled sarcastically. "That's easy for you to say. How old are you, like twenty?"

Damian slowly nodded. "Yeah, twenty-two. Why is that important?"

Patrick didn't answer him directly. "Then you don't remember what it's like. To live in a world where the only fear was meeting new people at school. Where you'd actually get to complain about how you didn't want to eat your greens because they tasted like shit. I bet you just started to talk fluently before the bombs fell." He stayed silent for a while. "What a day that was."

Matthias became oddly eager. He's always wanted to hear about Doomsday in a way other than the factual lecture his stepfather gave him all the time. Something about the topic interested him in a way that most people considered taboo, since many good people lost their lives that day. "What happened?" He asked cautiously.

Patrick made a quick glance at him before staring at the path he was walking on. "It was a normal day, just like every other day. I woke up, brushed my teeth and ate breakfast with my family. It was…a Saturday, I think. A day where I was off from school. I was…thirteen at the time."

He cleared his throat, trying to remember everything correctly. "My dad was a

conspiracy theorist." He laughed shortly at what he said, amused by it. "He used to drive me and my mom crazy by tuning his radio to some paranoid guy who rambled about how the government was against us and all that bullshit. My mother was a teacher, and I, ha, always got made fun of because of her." He sighed heavily. "It was in the middle of the afternoon when it happened."

He struggled to recall the details, not because he forgot them, but because he would never forget. "My dad came home really early from work in a panic. He said, 'Get in the damn car!' Heh. Scared the crap out of me and my mom. It took a while, but we did as he said: packed our shit then took off. Then he drove. He drove for what seemed like years. I ended up falling asleep, even though he was yelling crazy shit like 'The world is going to end' and crap like that." He stared off into the distance with a grim expression.

The crunching of leaves and the chattering of the nearby fauna seemed to be the only things present in the forest. Matthias watched as Patrick instinctively reached for the flask in his front pocket. He cursed when he realized that he had forgotten to refill it from the night before. Sighing, he continued. "It was my mother who woke me up when we got to our stop. She looked like she had been crying, and my dad was too busy listening to the news on the radio to care. We ditched the car, then climbed on top of a hill, where a bomb shelter was. My dad, being the crazy sonofabitch he was, signed us up on the waiting list about two months before hand." He stayed silent.

"So…what happened next?" Matthias asked.

Patrick looked at him intently. Then he scoffed. "What the hell do you think happened? We got in the bomb shelter, then boom. Came out five years later, and now here I am fifteen more years later. Not much more to it than that."

Matthias seemed disappointed, as he expected a more climactic end to Patrick's story. The way he was telling it was hinting at the thought that something exciting had happened. Then again, surviving the apocalypse seemed to be exciting enough. "So, when did the monsters come in?"

Patrick shrugged. "Who knows and who cares? They just appeared and now we have to deal with them."

Damian interjected, finally breaking his own silence. "There's a lot of theories out there, actually. Some say that these things came from the radiation pools where the bombs fell," he explained with a smile.

Patrick shook his head. "Yeah, well I call bullshit on that. Some of these things don't even remotely look like normal animals. And I might not know a lot of shit, but I do know that radiation doesn't give things the power to summon fire or water at will."

Damian chuckled, trying to keep the conversation as friendly as possible. "Then where do you suppose they came from. Space?"

Patrick scoffed again. "Like I said: who knows and who cares? The only thing we need to know about these things is how to kill them and how to eat them."

Just then, Matthias's stomach growled. That was about the time when he noticed he was starving, as he had nothing to eat since the night before. He shook it off though, as he was on a mission. A few more hours with no food wouldn't hurt him.

Suddenly, the group stopped. The two experienced fighters held up their guns and stayed as silent as possible. Matthias copied them, unsure of what was about to happen, but prepared himself for the worse. Matthias heard nothing besides his own heartbeat.

"It's quiet," Patrick whispered softly. "We're in predator territory now."

From the front of the group, various soldiers gestured to each other with hand signals. None of the other soldiers moved. Thomas, who lead the group along with Sergeant sniffed the air. "Ma'am, are you going to find the alpha?" he whispered.

Sergeant responded by nodding. She unsheathed the powerful hunting rifle strapped on her back, and made sure it was loaded. "Tell the others to follow as quietly as possible," she ordered quietly. "If I hear so much as the crunch of a branch, I'll beat them myself."

Thomas nodded before telling the order to the other soldiers, after which they obeyed without question. Like a wave, everyone crouched down and headed for the cover of the trees. Thomas returned to Sergeant's side like the loyal soldier he was. "Do you smell that, Musketeer?" Sergeant asked coldly.

Thomas nodded. "No doubt about it. Those are Blade Bugs." He sighed quietly.

The group moved like a silent army, approaching the second mile outpost as quietly as possible. Matthias gripped his battered weapon tightly, hoping that everything was going to go alright. As long as everything went smoothly, they should've be fine.

He became nearly petrified when he saw the first Blade Bug zip out from one tree to another. One by one, he started to notice the green creatures. They were rather tall for monsters, nearly peaking five feet, and were bipedal. Their bodies were covered in light green exoskeletons, but their fleshy, cream-colored joints seemed soft enough for a pistol round to enter. They had reptilian heads with three spikes that seem to protrude from their skulls, and had wings that moved faster than a hummingbird's.

But what disturbed Matthias most was the long scythe-like blades they had for arms. They lacked any sort of appendages used for grabbing things: no hands, no fingers, not even simple claws. All they had were swords for arms, which meant they were only built for killing. It was something that seemed to be made from hell, not nature.

Matthias slowly lifted up his gun to aim at the creatures, but was stopped by Damian. "Not yet," he whispered. "We need to kill the alpha first."

Matthias obeyed and pointed his gun towards the ground. "What does the alpha look like?"

As if on cue, a Blade Bug seemed to present itself to the others. It knocked one of its members off of a tree branch to assert its authority. Unlike the other creatures, it had a much darker shade of green for its exoskeleton, and its segmented joints were a light red instead of the normal cream color. It was obvious to everyone that it was the alpha.

While controlling her breathing, Sergeant hoisted her rifle up to her face. She gave a quick glance to Thomas and nodded. Thomas returned the nod, and used hand signals to alert everyone what was about to happen. Breathing slowly, Sergeant peaked through her frost covered scope and aimed carefully at the alpha Blade Bug, who was unaware of what was in its territory. She held steady, and placed a single finger on the trigger. With minimal effort, she slowly pulled the cold piece of metal.

A sound of thunder spread across the forest. It rolled through the trees and echoed off from distant mountains. If the Blade Bugs didn't know they were there, they sure as hell did then. The alpha was hit just below its thorax, but instead of killing it like Sergeant expected, it only made it angry. With terror in his eyes, Thomas gave a single order to unleash hell. "Fire!"

Gunfire echoed throughout the forest as the battle for lost territory began. Only a couple of Blade Bugs fell lifelessly to the ground, as the others' overwhelming speed allowed them to dodge most of the shots and charge at the human exterminators. It took only mere seconds before the first human met their demise.

One of the volunteers, either too brave or too stupid to join the others, was met with a hefty swing from a Blade Bug. He saw it coming, but it seemed using his arm as a shield had no effect. The Blade Bug's sword arm tore through him like a hot knife through liquid butter, leaving him with no arm and a deep, brutal gash across his chest. He only felt a strong burning sensation for a small moment before he lost his life.

Sergeant was the only force to be reckoned with it seemed. She had enough experience to know that the eyes and mouth were the easiest points to hit. She knew that their exoskeletons were nearly impossible to penetrate with the small rounds the SMGs had. She flawlessly destroyed some of the younger Blade Bugs who saw the opportunity to charge at her. With some luck, the humans may have had a chance since they had her on their side.

Suddenly, a single Blade Bug landed in front of her, preparing itself for a lightning fast charge. She easily recognized it, as its red body segments setted it apart from its companions. The alpha Blade Bug came to square off with the alpha human. She looked at the wound she gave it, which was steadily oozing a light yellow liquid, and scowled. If it was just about two or three inches higher, she could've torn the thing in half.

The alpha Blade Bug seemed to know that she was the one who initially shot it, and vowed for revenge. Beating its wings, it charged at full power. It raised its arms to give the killing strike. Sergeant saw the attack coming, and aimed for the alpha's exposed eyes. She pulled the trigger, unleashing a volley of disgusting copper spikes.

That was when the Bug stopped in its tracks and shielded its face with its arms. The large sword it had made an efficient shield against the incoming bullets. It lowered its arm once the shots had ceased. That's when Sergeant had a terrible realization.

It knew how to fight humans.

Instead of charging again, it circled around her without taking its eyes off of her, anticipating her next move. Sergeant knew that she had to reload her weapon, but had a feeling that when she did, the alpha would make her an easy target. She could've taken her chances and shot at the exposed body segments, but knew that when she did, it would dodge the bullets. What was suppose to be slaughtering stupid creatures had suddenly became a battle of wits.

The two opponents circled around each other, eagerly waiting for one of them to make a move. Thomas noticed their standoff, and knew that he had to help his comrade. Unfortunately, the seemingly endless barrage of Blade Bugs did not make it easy on him. He couldn't step anywhere without meeting a pissed off green creature.

Sergeant kept her eyes on the alpha Blade Bug, knowing that if she looked away for any reason, she'd be dead in less than a second. She had to think of something, and quickly too, otherwise the mission would be a total failure. Luckily, she quickly hatched a plan, proving her experience on the battlefield.

If the alpha knew how to fight humans, that meant that it also knew their arsenal. She swiftly snatched a rock from the ground, and held it in her mouth. She tossed it with a single word that would be sure to scare off the Blade Bug. "Grenade!"

The Blade Bugs eyes widened at the word and, as expected, flew away from the harmless rock, keeping its eyes on it. He left an opportunity for an attack, which Sergeant gladly accepted. She held on to the trigger of her gun as tightly as possible, spraying her target with a storm of bullets.

However, the alpha Blade Bug was still too fast for her, and blocked his face from the incoming shots. The copper spikes bounced off from its sword.

Suddenly, a single click emitted from Sergeant's peashooter.

The Blade Bug made an eerie smile, an expression that only humans should make, and charged right for the alpha human at full speed. It was about to have his revenge on the bitch who wounded it.

Sergeant tried to stay calm as possible, but for the first time in her life, she felt fear. She realized that she did not want to die, and was afraid of what might've happened after. A savage, primal instinct begged her to stay alive at all costs. She reached for her sidearm, which was conveniently strapped to her thigh for situations like this. She clenched her fingers around the smooth handle of her pistol.

But it was too late.

As fast as lightning, the Blade Bug made a single swing. The sharp sword of an arm glowed a bright white before cutting through her skin, nearly halving her. Her lifeless body dropped to the ground with a gritty squelching noise as her insides escaped her mangled body. A deep pool of sticky red blood and liquids from within her organs puddled around her. The upper half of her body twitched involuntarily, like a machine short circuiting. All of the life escaped her eyes, which left one last fearful expression. The poor bastard probably didn't feel anything.

Satisfied with its revenge, the alpha Blade bug flew off, ready to kill more of the helpless, and now leaderless, human beings. It smiled as if it knew that victory was at hand.

The mission should've ended there and then, but those who attempted to retreat were sliced down to pieces. Without a leader, the humans were almost powerless, and were now easy prey for the Blade Bugs. It was a shame that they didn't have an appetite for human flesh; the bodies they were leaving could've fed them for a couple of weeks.

It wasn't long before the alpha found its next target. Matthias was already struggling to fight off a Blade Bug that wanted a piece of him. He shot at the creature once it charged at him, and managed to hit its eye. He cheered once the creature fell lifelessly to the ground.

His smile faded once he heard a threatening thud come from behind him. He turned around to meet his new adversary. The alpha grinned making the young man feel extremely uncomfortable. Something about the alpha's mere presence and confidence sent chills down his spine.

Matthias instinctively brought his rusted SMG up to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. Same as before, the alpha Blade Bug covered its vulnerable parts with its arms and patiently waited for the shooting to stop. It didn't take long at all for the dreadful click to come from Matthias's gun. The Blade Bug lowered its defenses and smiled.

Matthias hastily reached into his pockets to find another magazine of ammo, but soon found out that he was completely dry. He tossed the useless gun towards the Blade Bug in a futile attempt to halt its movements. He reached for the revolving rifle strapped onto his back, but once he unsheathed it, the Bug made a single slash, manipulating the air with enough force to knock the young soldier on his ass, and his gun away from his grip.

Matthias twisted his head and found his weapon laying peacefully on the ground. He crawled backwards, keeping his eyes on the approaching Blade Bug while reaching out for his weapon. He noticed the fresh blood dripping from one of its swords, and feared the worst.

Hope washed over him when he felt the butt of his rifle.

He lifted the weapon against his shoulder as he sat up. He aimed for the eye of the beast, and prayed that his stepfather was right about the damage its bullets could dish out.

A single click.

He had forgotten to load it.

Of all of the mistakes he could've made, he made the most deadly one.

He had forgotten to load his goddamn gun.

Whilst shaking in fear, he quickly reached into his pocket until he felt a single brass bullet, no larger than his little finger. He watched as the Blade Bug seemed to take its time, savoring the moment before a good kill. He unhatched the cylinder of his gun with six empty slots. He moved to put the single bullet in the gun.

He felt it slip right out of his hands and saw it land on the soft grass.

He watched as the Blade Bug begin to charge at him as its bloodied sword glowed a bright white. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

A volley of thunder and a bullet to the eye ceased the alpha's charging. Matthias opened his eyes to see Patrick shooting at the Blade Bug, who was covering its now wounded eye. "Why won't you die, you motherfucker!?" he shouted. His gun clicked, signaling that he was out of ammo. He tried to reload. As he reached for a new magazine, however, the Blade Bug gave a blind swipe towards him, slicing his gun clean in half, and nipped a bit of his arm. Patrick fell to the ground with a shout of pain, gripping his bleeding arm as the alpha regained its composure. It looked over Patrick with a single, angry eye.

Matthias acted quickly, grabbing the small, lone bullet from the ground and slid it in his gun's cylinder. He closed the gun, and pulled back the hammer with his thumb. He aimed at the Bug, whose arm was raised and glowing white for a killing blow.

The bang that his gun created made his own ears ring. The force from the bullet knocked the unsuspecting alpha to the ground as it struck its neck. It made a nasty gurgling noise before it finally stopped breathing. It was done. The alpha was killed.

The Blade Bugs, who recognised the death of their leader retreated back into the woods. Since they worked together in hives, the loss of a leader meant the loss of a battle. Some of the humans cheered as they retreated, others cursed at them while shooting at their wings to finished them off.

Matthias got up and ran over to Patrick, who was still clenching his arm. He looked over towards the dead alpha. "Nice shot, kid," he said with a chuckle.

Matthias chuckled back at him. "Yeah, well I couldn't have done it if you didn't save my ass."

Patrick groaned in pain, clenching his steadily bleeding arm. He looked at the dead Blade Bug again. "The bitch got me. Urgh. Asshole."

"Are you okay?" Matthias asked, trying to get a look at his wound.

Patrick groaned again. "Yeah… yeah. It's just a scratch."

Matthias face scrunched up once the putrid, coppery stench of blood invaded his nostrils. He attempted to move Patrick's clenched hand away from the wound. He immediately regretted it.

The monster sliced into his bicep with a very deep gash. Matthias could see the dull, amber colored bone inside his arm. He could see the muscle where the creature cut through, lined with white fibers similar to that of a raw steak. He noticed that the skin around the wound haphazardly flopped around the opening, like a deflated balloon. Needless to say, Matthias recoiled away from the sight, and gagged loudly as his stomach tried to remove contents that weren't even there.

Patrick wasn't all to glad about his reaction, and decided to look at his own arm. His pupils widened in response. Suddenly, a tidal wave of pain washed over him, as if to punish him from noticing the severity of the wound. "F-F-F-FUCK!" he shouted with a painfully shaking voice. His breathing became extremely erratic, and his undamaged hand started to twitch.

Matthias stood up from his failed attempts at vomiting. Damian ran over to him and patted him on the back. "You alright, kid?"

Matthias didn't say anything in response, but he simply pointed at Patrick. Damian muttered curses under his breath. "We need medical attention!" he shouted.

Thomas heard his comrade's shouts, and decided to finish what he was doing. He muttered a couple of final prayers before closing Sergeant's eyes, laying her to rest. He then grabbed the bag that was strapped to her. He ran towards his comrades and saw what they were shouting about. Acting quickly, he kneeled over Patrick to take a look at his wound.

"This cut to too deep for us to treat here," he said sadly. "At this rate, you're going to bleed out in a couple of hours."

Patrick had to hold back from spitting in his face. "Then fucking…do something about it! Fuck!" He sucked in his teeth, trying to fight the pain.

Thomas shook his head. "There's nothing we can do," he said calmly. He then looked over to the dead alpha Blade Bug. Mainly, he looked at the clean sword arm it had. "Unless…"

Patrick quickly caught on to his plan. "No. No! Fuck you! You are not going to do that!"

Thomas made a deep, sorrowful sigh. "I'm sorry, but even if we do manage to fix your arm, this cut must've taken a few nerves with it. You can't even feel your fingers right now, can you?"

Patrick looked at his hand. He knew it was there, he could see it. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to clasp his hand into a fist. He had a horrified expression. "I'm so sorry," Thomas repeated.

The Musketeer stood up and looked at Damian and Matthias. He pointed to Damian. "You hold his other arm." He pointed to Matthias. "You hold his legs." He then pointed to a random soldier, who could only stand and watch. "You go and find me a stick," he ordered.

Everyone did as they were told as Thomas walked over towards the dead Blade Bug. He unsheathed his pistol and stood over the creature. He shot at the segmented joint connecting the sword arm to the shoulder, then pulled it with all his might. One nasty popping sound later, and Thomas had his own machete.

The soldier brought a small branch to Thomas as he walked over towards Patrick who was struggling to break free from everyone's grip. Thomas knelt down to him and offer him the stick. "Bite down on this as hard as you can."

Patrick glared at him, since that was all he could do. "Go… fuck… yourself," he whispered in between painful breaths.

Thomas looked him dead in the eye, expressionless. "I'm trying to save your life. That arm is going to be the death of you." He held the stick on Patrick's lip. "Bite."

Patrick looked at his arm, which was still bleeding steadily. He noticed how much blood he was losing, and started to become lightheaded. He tried once again to make a fist, and once again failed to lift even one of his fingers. If it wasn't for his humerus bone, his arm would've been hanging by a thread. He closed his eyes, and took the stick in his mouth.

Thomas nodded and laid out Patrick's arm in a straight line, ignoring his painful and muffled curses. He stood up and grasped the dismembered Blade Bug arm as best as he could. He only had one target, and he stared at it for a while. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the sword high up in the air before bringing it back down as hard as he could.

Matthias could feel Patrick's legs kick and twitch rapidly as he screamed in pain. He literally had to lay down his entire weight on Patrick's legs to keep them from kicking anyone. Thomas lifted the blade back up and shook his head. He lifted the blade high up in the air again.

Matthias heard somewhere that bones were stronger than steel. He had never believed it until that very moment when Thomas swung down again, and Patrick screamed even louder than before. Blade Bugs were supposedly famous for cutting clean through steel plates and guns, yet Thomas was having a lot of trouble cutting through a simple human body part. Now he knew: bones were, in fact, stronger than steel. He also learned that Blade Bugs must've had tremendous strength if they actually could slice bone. You learn something new everyday.

Thomas cursed as he took his machete from the wound again. He raised it high in the air once more. With all of his strength, he swung the blade back down again. This time, a loud and gritty crack echoed throughout the area, signalling everybody that it was finished. Thomas tossed away the dead arm and his machete while Patrick screamed his voice out. Who knew that Patrick could reach that high of an octave anyway?

Thomas was panting, as it seemed dismemberment took away a lot of his energy. He gave a final look at the bloody stump which used to be an arm, then at Damian. "Go get me the cauterizer from that bag." He pointed at Sergeant's rucksack, then proceeded to lift Patrick's tattered sleeve to get a good look at it. He retrieved a small metal flask from one of his pockets. "Kid, I need you to hold down his arm."

"What about his legs?" Matthias asked, as he laid still on top of the armless soldier.

"He is going into shock, so he won't be kicking, but I still think he'll try to sock me in the face." Matthias nodded, then moved over to hold his arm. Patrick didn't even try to fight back, as he seemed too weak to do so. His breathing became rapid, and his skin was started to feel cold and clammy. He looked like shit.

Patrick only started to move again once Thomas poured whiskey over the wound. "Thank God that I made a clean cut," Thomas muttered. Matthias heard the sound of a blowtorch. He looked over to see Damian heating up the cauterizer, which was basically a metal sheet heated up by a blowtorch. "It should make this a lot easier."

Damian walked over to Thomas, blowing off the hot metal sheet to get it to the right temperature. After all, they wanted to seal the wound, not liquify the flesh. Thomas pointed towards a spot on Patrick's stump. He nodded, then slowly brought the searing hot plate towards the stump.

Matthias could only close his eyes, block out the screams, and ignore the painful attempts of Patrick to lift his arm, but he could not block out the smell. Since he was starving, anything should've smelled pleasant to him. Afterall, human flesh is just another meat. Yet, the foul burning stench of human meat being cooked made him so sick to his stomach, that he lost his appetite. He arched over and gagged, spitting out nothing but saliva and a bit of phlegm. It only lasted for a few painful seconds.

Patrick pushed the stick away from his mouth with his tongue, and was breathing slowly. Matthias decided that he was finished holding down his arm, and let go of him.

Patrick grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled the young man towards his face.

"Kill me," he whispered in agony. "Just…fuckin'...kill me."

Matthias broke free from Patrick's grip and stood up. He walked away from him, and decided to let Thomas and Damian take care of him. He sat down with his back against a tree, and took a needed break.

He did it. He finally did it. Matthias survived his first extermination mission. When he arrived at his home, he would be welcomed with open arms by those who would actually decide to show up. He was going to be respected and admired by some of his peers, and be called a fool or an idiot by others. His stepfather was going to be so proud of him, despite the fact that he was going to be worrying about Matthias's well-being for the rest of his life. He did it. Matthias finally fulfilled his purpose in life. He finally found out what he could do to serve his little hometown. He had finally became the hero he always dreamed he would be. He should've been happy. He should've been smiling.

Why wasn't he smiling?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Guess who's back..._

 _Back again..._

 _Sly is back..._

 _Tell a friend..._

 _Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back._

Seriously, it's good to be back in the writing scene, and I apologize to anyone who was expecting an update anytime soon. There has just been a lot of crap going on in my life that it put me in writers block. A large hiatus, I know, so I apologize again. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. There will be more to come, so stay tuned!

Also, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!


	4. Chapter 3: A Return to the Homefront

**Chapter 3: A Return to the Homefront**

There was a nip in the air. A seemingly unnatural cold the flowed through the breeze after the recent battle. It wiped away the foul odor of blood and death seeping from the corpse pile that was under construction. A pile that grew gradually over time.

Matthias simply watched as people dragged the bodies of the fallen brothers and sisters in bloody trails to the pile, where they would burn. He brought his knees up to his chest as he leaned back against a tree. He wanted to distract himself by looking at the scenery of the forest, but all he could see was the collection of bodies or the pieces left of them. Despite the vastly different blood color, the Blade Bugs had pink, fleshy insides that made Matthias sick to his stomach. Defeated, he looked down towards the ground and tried to think about anything other than where he was and what had just happened. He wanted to go home.

He heard the jangling sound of a gun against a leg approach his little spot and saw someone sit down next to him. He took his head out from between his legs to see Damian staring out into space. A small, forced smile appeared on the Musketeer's scruffy face. Matthias stared in his blue eyes, which may have been attractive to some, if they weren't devoid of any good emotion. "Glad to see that you're still alive," he muttered.

Matthias had a sudden urge to smile back, but it seemed like his body was refuting the notion. He opened his mouth to say something, but only dead air escaped his chest. He nodded at Damian's statement before returning his head to his knees, and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Damian sighed deeply before he rummaged through one of his many pockets. He retrieved a small, cylindrical roll of white paper with a brown tip. He tapped Matthias on the shoulder before handing him the small stick of paper. "Here. This will make you feel better." He smiled warmly.

Matthias took the stick of paper and examined it carefully. He saw one of those things before, but he barely knew how to use them. Nervously, he place the brown part of it in his mouth and held it with his lips. He heard a clicking noise before Damian held an old-looking lighter towards the end of the paper stick. It ignited almost immediately. Matthias was unsure of what to do next, so he took a big breath, like how he saw other people do it.

He quickly found out that he made a mistake. He felt the hot smoke invade his lungs, suffocating him. He coughed and sputtered in response. Damian had to keep himself from laughing hysterically as he was lighting up one for himself. He patted the kid on his back as he was coughing and wheezing. "First time, huh?"

Once Matthias got his bearings straight he slowly nodded in embarrassment. Damian chuckled. "Here. Let me show you how it's done." He brought his own cigarette up to his mouth and breathed slowly, savoring every ounce of flavor from the bitter tobacco. He held his breath for a moment, enjoying every second of the warmth that filled his chest as it flooded to the rest of his body. In that mere moment, all of his worries seemed to wash away from his face. Finally, he exhaled slowly, releasing the disgusting, yet comforting black smoke into the air. He was hypnotized by the smoke as it rose to the air before disappearing completely, never to be seen again. He sighed contently, knowing that his pent up emotions blew away with the smoke. "See? Just like that." He patted Matthias on the shoulder again. "Now you try."

Matthias nodded slowly before ogling at his cigarette. He brought the small brown end tip of it to his mouth. "Now breath in slowly," Damian commanded, like a friendly father would to a child. Matthias did as he said, and took a deep breath.

Once again, he felt the smoke invade him, and started to involuntarily panic. Then, all of a sudden, he felt comfort. Instead of the scorching he was expecting, all he felt was a comfortable warmth well up inside him. He felt the warmth travel all across his arms, then all the way down to his toes. He was so relaxed that he didn't even realize that he was holding his breath until his body urged him to breathe. Reluctantly, he obeyed his bodily commands and emptied his lungs. Then he felt something odd. It was if all the evil feelings that was inside of him - his fear, his guilt, his sorrow - was absorbed by the toxic black cloud and set free into the air. In that tiny, insignificant moment, he never felt fear. He never felt depressed. All he felt was… happiness, maybe. He watched as that beautiful, poisonous, and revolting cloud disappeared in the blue sky. For the first time in the entire day, he finally felt that he was at peace. He finally felt relaxed.

He finally felt genuinely happy.

"Ha, now you're getting the hang of it," Damian said as smoked seeped from his mouth. "It's good, ain't it?"

Matthias nodded. "Yeah. Thanks Damian."

The Musketeer chuckled as he gave the young kid a friendly nudge. "Don't mention it, kid. Sure, they may be expensive as hell, but you needed one more than I did."

A loud thud interrupted their musings. Matthias's smile slowly faded as he saw the death pile grew higher and higher with each lifeless body tossed onto it. The stench of decay grew more and more unbearable by the second. A single morbid thought entered his mind as he stared at the pile: If it wasn't for Patrick, he would've been one of those many corpses. Guilt started to re-enter his troubled mind. He suddenly remembered what he wanted to say to Damian. "Damian?" He mumbled, almost as a whisper. "Why did you become a soldier?"

The Musketeer gave Matthias a curious look, as he didn't expect the question at all. He thought for a moment, puffing small clouds of smoke as he did. "Well…" He started. "I guess it's in my blood."

Matthias was confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Damian sighed and let out another puff of toxic smoke. "Well, my granddad was a soldier in the army. The Old World army, I should say. He was killed in action just before the bombs fell. My dad did some service as well, and was actually one of the first ever guards to brave the Road. A monster took his life. Apparently, my family has been in service since the second World War."

Matthias was stunned for a moment. "Wait, there were _two_ huge wars back in the Old World? Before the bombs?!"

Damian nodded. "Yeah. That's when guns were invented. I think the first one was fought with a lot of swords and horses." He shook his head as he noticed he was getting off topic. "Anyway, I guess I just wanted to continue the family tradition. I can't say that it's easy or enjoyable, but I am damn good at what I do. Besides, what else can I do?" He took another drag of a cigarette. "Why do you ask?"

Matthias sighed. "I just wanted to know if it was worth it." He brought the cigarette to his mouth, but felt nothing when he breathed in. It seemed that the peace it brought was short lived.

"To be honest, kid? It wasn't." Damian scowled. "Twenty people go in, seven and a half come back out. And for what? A little piece of land that we barely control? Yeah, it doesn't take a genius to see that we have an empty victory here. God, ever since we lost contact with Charlottetown it's all gone to shit." He tossed his now used up cigarette haphazardly. "So much for hoping that this was going to go well."

Matthias noticed that his cig was going out as well, and simply dropped it to the ground. He returned his legs to is chest as the cold started to get to him. "I… I want to go home."

Damian made a slight frown. It was clear to him that Matthias wasn't fit to be a soldier. "Don't worry, Matthias. We'll get home, safe and sound."

Matthias peaked out for a moment. He stared at the tree where Patrick used to be. The chilling thought of "amputating" him returned to the young soldier in horrific snippets every time he closed his eyes. He swallowed a painful lump in his throat. "Is Patrick going to be… okay?" He asked, almost whimpering.

Damian gave him an odd look. "Yeah. He may have lost a lot of blood, but he'll live," he said with a bit of what sounded like anger.

Matthias shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean when we get home. What's going to happen to him?"

Damian sighed. "Well, without an arm he's useless as a soldier. They'll probably just execute him."

Matthias looked down to the ground with a depressing frown. It was clear that it wasn't the answer he wanted. "Is there any other way? Can't they just free him?"

Damian placed a palm over his head "What the hell are you going on about? That man is a criminal, no, not just that, a murderer! He is just another waste of life that we shouldn't waste our resources on," he scoffed. "Think of it as a favor. We'll be putting him out of his misery."

It was at that moment that Matthias felt enraged. It was like a wildfire burning inside of him and impatiently waiting for him to incinerate something. "Why is everybody against him all the time?! He's a human just like all the rest of us!"

It didn't take long at all for Damian to notice the kid's spontaneous reaction. "Woah, calm down."

Matthias ignored him. "If it wasn't for him, I would be in that death pile. He saved my life! But no one cares?! God, why does everyone have to be… be…" He struggled to find the right word. "So damn _stupid_!" He slammed the bottom of his fist against the tree.

A wave of pain made him lose his anger. Instinctively, he went to tend to his hand, which was cut by the tree and bleeding. He put the wound in his mouth in a quick attempt to keep the blood from going all over the place.

Damian sighed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Matthias answered with annoyance, "yeah, I'm fine."

Damian shook his head and quickly received what looked like a roll of sturdy cloth. "Here, kid. Use this to cover that mess."

Matthias took the roll with his free hand, and started to wrap up his wound using his mouth to grab a strip. He wasn't expecting it to be sticky, but it made it easier to wrap up his hand without any help. Once he was done, he clenched his fist to make sure that he was still fully articulate. "Thanks," he muttered as he returned the bandages.

Damian didn't say anything as he took the bandages back. Then he chuckled. "At this rate, you're going to use up all of my shit in the next hour." He cracked a small smile.

Matthias gave out a small and quiet laugh. "Yeah. Sorry."

Damian let his head down, as he was thinking about something. "Why do you care?"

Matthias was baffled by the question. "What?"

"Why do you care about what happens to that guy? And don't give me that 'he saved my life' bullshit, because I know you cared about him before then."

Matthias had to think for a moment, as he never thought about his seemingly unusual friendly relationship with a criminal. "I don't really know. I mean, we've been friends ever since I joined the guard force. I know he is a real jerk sometimes, but he is also nice at other times. Like one time, I forgot to fill up my canteen with water one night, so he gave me his for the whole shift. He said he didn't need it. And one time, he gave me a couple of his bullets to trade for a piece of bread because I was hungry." He smiled. "He is the first friend I made as a guard. Out of all of my partners, he was the only one who was nice to me because I was nice to him." He sighed. "So yeah. I care for him."

Damian stared at him for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, he smiled widely and patted the young soldier on the back. "You can solve our food problem with all that cheese, kid. Ha!"

Matthias laughed for a moment, but then went back to his frown, still aware of the fact that Patrick's life was shortening every second. "I will find a way," he said. "I'll find a way to get him out of trouble."

Damian gave a sad look to his young comrade. He was about to say something, but was interrupted by a familiar blonde soldier. "Hey! I need you two!"

Damian stood up in attention, and Matthias followed. Thomas, the lead Musketeer, was now the leader of everyone thanks to the death of Sergeant. "What do you want us for, Davos?"

Thomas shook his head with a smile. "It's _Athos_ , genius. And I have jobs for you two."

Matthias gave a salute. "Ready for orders, sir!" He said in a respective manner.

Thomas nodded, pleased with the kid's enthusiasm. He pointed to a section of the clearing, mainly where a lot of Blade Bug bodies lied. "See all that shit? Well, since we have only one injured, we're going to use the stretchers to bring home as many as we can. We could use all the food we can get."

Damian nodded. "Easy. Is that all?"

"For now, yes." Thomas looked around to the other soldiers handling the human bodies, then back to Damian and Matthias. "You might want to hurry up. After the burning, we are going to leave. Hop to it." He hurried off to the other soldiers to prepare the burning.

"Right," Damian said sternly. "Big boss gave us a job, so let's get it done."

Matthias nodded, ready to finally do some work instead of moping. "Yeah, let's do this."

Matthias followed Damian to the litter of Blade Bug remains. It became immediately apparent that the stench was worse that human blood. Instead of that familiar metallic scent, it smelled like something was rotting. Matthias instinctively scrunched up his nose, and tried his best not to release whatever was in his empty stomach.

"Christ! Imagine what their shit smells like!" He pulled his undershirt over his face to mask the scent. Granted, his sweat didn't smell much better. "Alright, kid, make sure to get the ones that have the least amount of bullet holes."

Matthias nodded, happy to do anything to take his mind off things. "So, uh, where's the stretcher?" He asked innocently.

Damian looked around for a moment, then smacked his forehead. "Shit!" He scoffed. "Alright, I'll be right back. Go ahead and uh… organize them or whatever, I don't care. Just don't… I don't know, piss on them or any of that shit, alright?"

Matthias just watched him as he ran to Thomas and whistled loudly. "You got it, boss," he mumbled.

A sudden curiosity came across Matthias's mind as he stared at the dead creatures. He had never seen them before, and a chance to see one that close, without them trying to kill him, may have been a once in a lifetime opportunity. For some reason, he felt compelled to study them, mainly their anatomy since it was the easiest to do so.

He picked the least damaged one he could find, since their insides disgusted him. Luckily for him, he found a very clean corpse. Curious, he started to examine the blades first. He raised the Bug's arm in the air and caressed the face of the sword. Surprisingly enough, they actually felt like pure metal, but that couldn't be possible. Could it? He traced the blade all the way down to the tip, where he was met with a sharp pain. It was actually amazing how sharp the things were, as it easily sliced through flesh. He thought of the weapons that could be made from it.

Next were the wings. They looked similar to that of a common fly, in fact, they didn't look like much for flying. Perhaps they were used for increased mobility instead of flight. He wondered what could possibly create such a terrifying, yet majestic animal. He started to fondle with it's back, feeling the nearly impossible-to-crack exoskeleton. A chilling thought of skinning it entered his mind. After all, the exoskeleton would prove to be a prized set of armor.

He also felt something peculiar. He was sure the joint connecting the right wings was misshapen. It didn't feel broken, just misplaced. Like a dislocated shoulder would be. He actually kind of felt sorry for it, since it may have died in horrible pain. The lack of blood on it's swords could also mean that it was one of the first ones to go. He sighed and shook his head.

Next, was the head. He was interested in the three-pronged spikes sticking out of it's head. It seemed to be a part of its skull, but he couldn't be sure without digging inside its head. He felt eyelids to find out that they were closed quite tightly. With a gentle tug, he managed to pull one open, revealing a slit pupil surrounded by a dark amber iris staring back at him. It almost looked human, and sent chills down his spine. He happily returned the eyelid back to it's place.

He examined the mouth next, forcing its jaw open. He took note of the sharp fang-like teeth on its top jaw, and the small rows of teeth inside the rest of its mouth. It must've been related to some Old World reptile of sorts, which was odd, since a Blade Bug is supposedly a bug. It also had a tongue that was unique for it's kind. It wasn't a proboscis, like an insect would have, or forked, like some reptiles would have. Hell, it wasn't even the least bit sticky! It was shaped, and felt like a normal tongue, albeit more arrow shaped to fit inside its head. It was warm too! In fact, Matthias could swear that he felt hot air brushing against his hand.

Almost as if it was breathing.

Suddenly, the creature opened a single eye, which cause Matthias to jump back with death on his mind. It took only a moment for the creature to recognize that its enemy was right in front of it. " _Murderer!_ " A strange, feminine voice cried out as the creature lunged for Matthias.

Matthias, struggling to pull his twitching body on to his feet, tried to simultaneously attempt to reach out for his gun and back away from the blades of destruction. He did managed to unsheath his rifle from his back, but was failing miserably at crawling away. Despite the obvious exhaustion the Blade Bug endured, which prevented it from getting on its feet, it still managed to crawl faster than the terrified human.

Matthias shot at the beast and felt like his eardrums exploded and was now flowing out of his ear. His disorientation didn't really affect him any much, as the Blade Bug was distracted keeping it's face shielded with its impenetrable claw. He fought the loss of sound with pure willpower, managing to get a few critical inches away from the creature.

All hope was lost when he backed into a tree. A pleasant deathbed to say the least.

He shot at the creature again, but really, all he was doing was preventing the inevitable. He shot again at the creature with no luck, then again. He finally had a good shot at the creature's head, but when he pulled the trigger, the bullet barely made a dent on the skull's armor. It did, however, lead a wide opening as the creature screeched in pain. He pulled the trigger once more.

And was met with the loud clicking sound of an empty chamber.

The creature tried to stand, but failed by tripping over its fallen comrades, and without the support of its wings, the only thing it could do was crawl. Even that in itself was painful, as Matthias could see it wincing with every move it made. But this was no time to feel sorry for it. Matthias swiftly retrieved another single bullet from his pocket, and made sure it was inside the chamber this time.

He pulled the hammer of the gun back until the cylinder turned. He saw the pure rage in the creature's eyes when he aimed at it's face. Then, for some odd reason, he felt… sad. Sad for the creature's pain. Shaking it off, he just told himself that he would put it out of its misery. He aimed down the iron sights of his rifle and kept a hand of the trigger.

That was when Damian stomped on the creature's back, holding it in place. He kicked its arms to make sure that it was lying on its torso since it couldn't take a swing at him that way. "Gotcha, you sonofabitch," he said. Quickly, he pulled out his pistol and fired three times on the ground next to it's head, disorienting it. Then he shouted, "Hey! I got a live one over here!"

Matthias took a big breath of relief. Once again, he managed to escape being torn into tiny shreds, even though he really didn't need someone saving him that time. He quickly stood up, breathing heavily. "Hey, kid. You alright?" Damian asked with a smile, keeping his pistol aimed at the monster's head.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Matthias said as he caught his breath. He looked back at the creature, who was still staring at him with anger.

Then he heard it. That same, feminine voice from before. " _Murderers. All of you_ ," it muttered angrily. " _How dare you claim to own this land when you killed for it!_ " Suddenly, the Blade Bug struggled to break free from Damian's grip.

Damian chuckled. "Damn, this thing is chatting up a storm, ain't it?" He kept his boot tightly pressed on it's back, sliding it to the creature's injury for good measure. Matthias stared at him in awe, and he immediately noticed. "What's wrong, kid?"

Could he not hear it? How could he not hear it?!

"It… talked. It just… spoke!" Matthias started to get lightheaded. There was no way it should be possible, right? The creature just _talked_ and Damian couldn't hear it? How could it be possible? It shouldn't be possible! Monsters are not intelligent! Are they?

"Matthias? Are you _sure_ you are alright?" Damian gave a frightening expression as he stared at the young soldier.

Matthias nodded as he tried to control his breathing. "Yeah, I'm… fine." He went to wipe his nose, which felt itchy and sore for some reason.

He almost fainted when he saw his hand covered in his own blood.

Before he could react, Thomas grabbed him by the shoulder. He was almost just as horrified, afraid the Matthias was hurt by the monster. He frantically swiveled the kid's head, looking for any sort of wound or bruise. He was weirded out when he saw nothing that could reasonably explain why he was bleeding so violently. "What the hell happened?!"

"It…" Matthias muttered, pointing a single finger at the Blade Bug. Its eyes widened, as if it was surprised by something. Matthias swallowed a lump in his throat. "It _talked_."

Thomas immediately turned to Damian, who was finally having no trouble keeping the Blade Bug in place. He shook his head. "I didn't hear shit besides the usual noises these things make," Damian said.

"Well, what did it do to Matthias?" Thomas asked frantically, turning back to the kid in search for an injury.

Damian shrugged. "I don't know. I saw it crawling towards the kid, but it never touched him. Hell, Matthias had a clear shot before I stopped him." He thought for a moment. "Maybe it release some sort of gas?"

Thomas shook his head. "I don't know. Blade Bugs aren't known for doing that shit." He sighed. "How do you feel, kid?"

Matthias was finally calming down, aware of what was going on now. He was still lightheaded thanks to the immediate loss of blood, but his nose was finally clotting up. "My head hurts," he said quietly.

Thomas nodded. "Well, these are typical signs of an exposure to a gas. "We'll have to take a look at you before we get back home." Thomas stood up, pointing to the people standing around. "Help Damian tie up this thing. Were going to sell it, if it's healthy enough." He turned his head for a second before bringing it back to the other Musketeer, "Oh, and be careful. Use your mask if these things can really emit that shit." After his orders, he gave a hand for Matthias. "Can you stand, kid?"

Matthias nodded and grasped his hand. In one single moment, he was back up on his feet, albeit a bit dizzy. He shook it off, quickly regaining his composure. "If you don't mind, kid," Thomas said, "go and get the criminal. He won't cooperate with anybody. And be careful. If you really were exposed to gas, then don't exert yourself."

Matthias nodded and ran off, in search of Patrick. On the way, he noticed other soldiers bringing in rope and metal sheets run past him. He stared at them as they made their way towards the Blade Bug that was still pinned on the ground by Damian's boot. He also noticed that the creature was gazing right at him. A sudden chill went down his spine.

He immediately returned to his task of retrieving Patrick. He hoped he didn't have to look at that Blade Bug anytime soon. Hopefully, he was just gassed by it and was simply hallucinating. However, he could not forget that war-torn, rough feminine voice. It was as if it was right in his head. It was so real too. What kind of substance can cause hallucinations like that to occur? Whatever it was, it was quite potent, as it caused some physical damage as well.

He shook off his curiosity, as it was distracting him from his task. Soon he had found Patrick sitting up against a tree, still recovering it seemed. It was hard for him to keep his eyes on one single object, but at least he was getting his tan skin color back and was breathing normally. When he noticed Matthias, his normal scowl turned into a slight frown. "So… you're my walking cane?" He asked in a quiet and hoarse voice. It was apparent that he screamed his voice out.

Matthias nodded, trying to smile. "Yeah, I guess I am." Matthias crouched next to him, grabbed his good- and only- arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. Suddenly, Patrick cried out in pain and instinctively tried to grab his nonexistent arm. His face made an odd and fearful expression as he realized nothing was there.

"Is that… normal?" He asked to no one in particular.

Matthias was still crouched on the ground, hesitant to lift him on his feet. "You okay?" He asked, staring at the bloody stump of his arm.

Patrick groaned "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Let's just hurry up and get this over with," he snapped. He glanced at his young comrade and noticed the drying blood on his face. "What the hell happened to you?"

Matthias grunted, getting used to Patrick's weight. One would think that losing a muscular limb would shave off a few pounds. "Nothing important. I'm fine now. Hopefully." Matthias smiled, attempting to lift Patrick's spirit, if he still had one.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, kid."

After Matthias was settled, he asked, "Ready to move?"

"Y- yeah. Just be careful; it still fuckin' hurts." He nodded. They moved towards the group as they were gathering near the death pile, which was finally at its peak. Suddenly, Patrick stiffened and yelped in pain.

"Sorry!" Matthias apologized instinctively, thinking that he must've done something to him.

Patrick groaned. "Shut up!" He muttered between his grunts. Finally, he calmed down. "I don't need your damn sorries. It's not your fault that the Musketeer fuck made me a cripple," he said in a painful strain.

Matthias stayed silent. He didn't appreciate Patrick's attitude towards Thomas, his idol, but he decided to keep it to himself. After all, Patrick had been through enough shit already. They moved towards the small group of people gathering at the death pile, where the stench reached its peak. It may not have been unbearable as it was before, but it still was a grizzly sight to behold with any one of the senses. Matthias wondered how long it would've taken for the eight remaining survivors to be wiped out by them if they didn't kill the alpha.

As they merged with the group, Damian came up to them with a white face mask over his mouth and nose. "You two alright?" He asked to Matthias with concern in his voice.

Patrick didn't say anything, so Matthias nodded. "Yeah, we're okay I think. Thanks for saving me, Damian."

Damian pulled off his mask to reveal his smile. "Don't mention it kid. Speaking of which, I need to examine you for any signs of gas exposure. Thomas's orders." He went up to the kid and moved his face around, examining it carefully.

"Wait a minute, what gas? What the hell are you talking about?" Patrick asked, realising that they may not care for the kid since they sent him to do work after he breathed in a nasty cloud of shit.

Damian shrugged. "I don't know, Thomas didn't tell me much, other than to inspect him. Apparently those thing can shoot out that crap," he said calmly, approaching Matthias.

"But they don't," Patrick said firmly, even in his weak state. "If Blade Bugs made gas clouds we would've _definitely_ know it by now. I myself have been in plenty of firefights with these bastards."

Damian sighed, studying Matthias's eye. "Look up with your eyes, kid." After he was done expecting one eye, he moved to the other. "That thing must've done something, though. But I haven't heard of any cases where people hear voices around these things."

Patrick became confused. "Voices? You heard voices?" He swiveled his head to look at the kid, who was wiping his eyes with his free hand.

Matthias hummed in affirmation, though not confidently. "I-I think I did. It was a woman's voice, kinda like Sergeant's, but a lot more younger and angrier." He shook his head.

"What did it say?" Damian asked, trying to understand what happened when that thing was crawling for him.

Matthias opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Even though it just happened, his mind, it seemed, wanted to forget that it even did. "It… It called me a murderer. No, it called us all murderers." He was starting to freak out. "It was coming directly from that thing, like a person talking to me."

Patrick scoffed. "These things don't speak, kid. Never have never will. Even if they do, it's kinda hypocritical of them to call _us_ the murderers, ha!"

The statement didn't do much to calm the kid's nerves. "But it did! It spoke to me!" He stared at Damian. "You were there when it did, how did you not hear it?! It was shouting and everything!" He stopped for a moment. "Oh God. Please tell me I'm not crazy."

Damian grabbed his shoulders. "Woah, woah, woah, calm down! Look, you're not crazy, alright? You were probably just hearing things, especially since you may have been traumatized by the thing trying to gut you, alright? Try to stay calm, and we'll get you home so you can rest."

Matthias forced his breathing to slow down, and eventually calmed himself to the best of his ability. "I just want to go home already," he said quietly.

"And we'll get there. But first we have to respect the fallen, alright? Look at me." He placed his hands on Matthias's face to make him look directly in his dark blue eyes. "We'll get home, and all this shit will be behind us, alright? I promise."

Matthias felt a sense of calmness from staring at his eyes. Though he wasn't confident, he still knew that they were going to get home safe and sound. The Musketeers were capable of anything, and even though the two of the three of them were here, it was still more than enough to give the kid the strength he needed. He nodded slowly. "Thanks, Damian."

The Musketeer smiled. "Alright then. Let's go lay these people to rest."

It took about half an hour for the bodies to become consumed by the fire and were too scorched to be eaten, or turned to dust. Matthias covered his nose the whole time they were burned, disgusted by the smell of flesh getting cooked by the flames. He also noticed that Thomas was trying his hardest to keep a calm and collected face. He was more than qualified to take Sergeant's place, but it was clear that he didn't want to. Right now, there was only one goal that the survivors wanted.

They all wanted to go home.

And so the small group of armed soldiers marched. If there was a bright side to all of this, it was that most, if not all, of the inexperienced volunteers died in the battle, leaving the soldiers that have some experience to protect each other on the journey home. There were also no need to retrieve any injured, seeing how the only one that was injured is a filthy criminal. There was no better group to go home. As long as the Blade Bugs didn't somehow return for revenge, they should be fine.

There was only one thing that made Matthias more than a little nervous. The Blade Bug that attacked him was coming with them. Since gathering a healthy Blade Bug, or any healthy monster for that matter, was very rare, it meant a lot of supplies could be traded for it. And considering the amount of bullets that have been wasted, they need anything they can get there hands on. After all, the Patriots were very generous to anyone who managed to capture a creature, as they loved to pit them against each other in their famous arenas. The monster versus monster battles were their most profitable, so the little town of Whiskey could negotiate for more than a couple of bullets.

The problem was that they needed to get it home. Matthias wasn't just afraid of what might happen if it escapes its bindings, even though there was no way it could moved due to how tightly it was tied down. Even if it could move, Damian kept his gun out and a sharp eye on it. The Musketeers were not known for missing, so Matthias wasn't too uncomfortable about that. He was more afraid if it was going to talk to him.

It didn't assure him that he was close to it. He could move farther away from it, but he wanted to stick to Damian and Thomas since they made him feel safe. He slowly turned his head towards the monster, just to get a quick glance at it.

It was staring right back at him. He realised at that moment, that the creature had been staring at for the whole fifteen minutes or so that they have trekked so far.

There was nothing but rage glowing from the creature's narrow, amber eyes. It was clear that it wanted to slaughter all of the humans, but it's bindings made it nearly impossible to do so. _Nearly_ , Matthias thought. All it had to do was cut a single rope, and hoped that everyone would miss it for it to kill him.

But why?

Why was it so interested in Matthias?

The young soldier looked down towards the ground, feeling sick. Patrick grunted. "What's wrong?"

Matthias shrugged his loose shoulder. "I… I don't know. I think I'm just tired. And I think that… thing hates me."

Patrick sighed, "Don't pay attention to that piece of shit. It's only a savage, unintelligent, monster."

Matthias elicited a small chuckle, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched by the Blade Bug. By that _monster_.

Then Matthias heard something. A familiar and terrifying feminine voice.

" _You are the only monsters walking here, Founder,_ " it whispered. " _Slaughter my kin and elder, yet you dare call_ _ **me**_ _a monster?_ "

Matthias twisted his head around, eyeing the creature. It kept its glare on him and him alone. " _You._ " He saw it. He saw its mouth moving. Words were escaping from the beast's lungs. It was _talking_. " _You were the one to finish my elder,_ " it said. It tried to move to release its bindings, but when it did, Damian smacked the back of its head with the butt of his gun.

Matthias turned his head away, trying to keep as calm as possible. He was hallucinating. He had to be. There was no possible way for these things to communicate with humans. Yet it continued. " _You murderer. You can hear me, I know it. I saw it in your face,_ " it growled. " _Mark my breath. You will die from my blade, even if my own death follows after. I will avenge my elder,_ " it snarled.

Matthias heard the thud from Damian's gun once more, feeling more and more uneasy as time went by. He tried to shut the beast out; to convince himself that he must've been sick with something. He _had_ to be hallucinating! He just _had_ to!

Suddenly, the group came to a halt, with Thomas putting a single fist in the air. Silence followed. Damian brought his gun up, ready for anything. Patrick noticed, and became visibly uncomfortable. "What the hell is going on now?"

Thomas shushed him loudly. His face was full of concern, as if something was amiss. When the others saw him, they retrieved their weapons, and were ready for anything. "Do any of you hear something?" He asked. Fear sprung on Matthias when the question was asked. His ears became attuned to the silence, listening for every soft rustle that was not caused by the wind.

All he heard was silence screaming back at him.

He wanted to pull out his rifle from its holster, but doing so meant that he had to let go of Patrick. There was no way he could be safe if something were to happen. Then that voice, that evil voice spoke once more. This time in fear. " _I can smell them,_ " it muttered. Matthias turned back at the Blade Bug, who looked like it wanted to escape more than ever. " _I can smell them_ ," it repeated. " _They're going to kill you._ "

A clap of thunder echoed in the forest.

Thomas's shoulder spewed tiny droplets of blood before he fell to the ground, cursing out in pain. Everyone scrambled, shooting at the source of the sound, or at least, near the source. Matthias saw a soldier near him fall to the ground after thunder boom once more. The hole left in his head was the size of a small marble, blood oozing from his nose and eyes like a calm river.

Bullets. Someone was using bullets on them.

Matthias ducked, forcing Patrick to do the same. The crippled soldier yelped in pain, and it felt like lightning surged through him. Matthias ignored him, and dragged them under a bush. He felt like Patrick would be safe there. But instead of participating in the fight himself, something inside him burned with a single primitive did not want to die.

Matthias quickly cowered under the thick bush along with Patrick, making sure that he was completely covered by the leaves. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want to take his chances in another firefight, especially one with humans.

The chaos only lasted for a few measly moments, but it was still a slaughter. One by one, people fell to their deaths, riddled with bullets. Then a voice rang out. A rough, loud voice that boomed after a sudden halt in the gunfire. "Drop your weapons!"

There were only four people left out of eight. Matthias, Damian, Patrick, and Thomas were now the only survivors. Matthias looked over from his cover to see Thomas clenching on his bleeding shoulder. His arm was limp, and there was no exit wound. The bullet must've shattered his arm bone. He continued to scan the area. Damian was the only one standing. Knowing that he was defeated, he dropped his weapon, placed himself on his knees, and put his hands behind his head.

After a few moments, Matthias noticed the ambushers. They each had white undershirts that were covered in military grade ballistic armor on their torsos, elbows, and knees. Their guns looked brand new, as they have been cleaned and taken good care of. The way they held them with confidence and finesse showed that they were experienced with them. They also had a strange insignia on their shoulders. It was and intricate read cross that impaled a snake to the ground, and an majestic bird was perched on one of its arms. On the bottom, words were inscribed onto it. Matthias could barely make it out: "To Green Pastures."

Matthias had heard the stories. He has heard of the threat lurking in the south, waiting to expand their territory. He knew about the men clad in white, who were not afraid to die by anyone, even if it meant themselves. He knew these men. All three of them, he knew who they were.

They were the Klan.

The leader, or at least the one that Matthias assumed as the leader, walked over Thomas, who was struggling to breathe properly. He towered over him, ordering the other two Klansmen to take care of Damian. He looked at his wound and shook his head. "I'm sorry, brother. I meant to make it a painless one," He said calmly. He sounded sincere and apologetic, as he was said that he had to shoot Thomas. "But, it seems that God has a different plan for you."

Thomas scowled, and spit in his face. "F-fuck you," he stuttered. "Fuck you and your goddamn cult!"

The Klansmen sighed, and retrieved his sidearm. He calmly wiped his face before he started whispering something to himself. Matthias couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but it sounded like he was speaking in a different language. He pulled the gun back, loading a single bullet into its chamber. He stood up, pointing the weapon at the injured Musketeer.

Matthias averted his gaze, but his heart nearly stopped when he heard the inevitable crack of thunder. His ears started to ring in a painful fashion, but he held his tongue, afraid of what the Klan would do if they found him. He found himself praying to whatever was watching him to show him a way out of this.

The Klansman shook his head, not out of guilt, but of disappointment towards Thomas's infidelity. A shame, really. He seemed like an honorable soul. He stood up to his full height before strolling towards the last man standing. Damian.

His comrades already had their weapons pointed towards the Musketeer, but it seemed unnecessary since he was being very cooperative for someone of his type. His colored showed that he may have Latino in his blood, so there was no way he was part of the Almighty's chosen people, but he did look strong enough for work. The Klansman stood over him, asserting his authority with his pistol still in his palms. "So," he muttered calmly. "Are you going to behave like a good dog, or am I going to have to put you down?"

"Brother, are you sure we want to keep him alive? He's a beaner!" One of the others clamored, not noticing Damian's scowl.

The leader shook his head. "Brother Joseph, you need to learn some respect. A little bit of mercy can allow you to control anyone."

"I'm still here, you know," Damian whispered under his breath. One of the Klan was about to bash his head in with the butt of his gun, but with a simple hand gesture, the leader stopped him.

He made eye contact with the lone Musketeer with a cold, lifeless stare, but made up for it with a friendly smile. "I know that you must be terrified right now, and I'm sure you've heard the… unpleasant stories about us, but trust me when I say that we can save you. Even if you are not of holy blood, I'm sure our Almighty still has a plan for you."

Damian chuckled. "I'd rather not find out what he has in store, thanks."

The leader's smile faded. He sighed. "Well, that's a shame." He turned the safety off from his gun. "Really, it is. Who knows? Maybe you could've reached enlightenment." He raised his gun for Damian's head.

Damian closed his eyes, hoping it would be painless. The leader placed his finger on the trigger. All that was left was an effortless pull.

Patrick hit a bad spot on his stubby arm, causing him to cry out. With his free hand he covered his mouth. Matthias, acting quickly, took his rifle out of his holster, making a little more noise. By this time, the leader was already anxiously looking at the source of the outburst.

He made a silent gesture with his fingers, ordering one of his men to get his back. Matthias squeezed his gun as they approached, trying to keep himself from trembling and making anymore noise. They might just give up. It was a comforting thought, but deep down, Matthias knew that he was doomed.

The Klansmen inched more and more to the cowering soldiers. At this point, it wouldn't be hard to spot them out in the brush.

Shouting echoed just before another clap of thunder. One of the Klansmen fell to the ground, lifeless as blood oozed out of his neck like a broken faucet. The leader turned around, aiming his rifle at the Musketeer, who was holding the other Klansman hostage with his own pistol.

Damian hid his head behind the Klansman's, pressing the barrel of the gun in his neck. "Drop your weapon, or I'll kill him!" He shouted.

The leader shook his head, and continued to point his rifle at them both. "He is an honorable man. If you kill him, you'll grant him access to heaven," he said.

Damian scoffed, then pointed his gun at the leader. "Fine. I'll kill you first. Drop your weapon!"

The leader smiled, as if he wanted this. "Not going to happen, Unclean."

Damian scoffed again, and squeezed the trigger.

The bullet hit nothing but dirt as his hostage pulled his arm down, together, they both went down on the ground, punching each other for the gun. Damian was able to grab it first, bring it up to the man's head, and fired. He was shaking so much, that his body put two extra bullets in the man for good measure.

The leader had a good shot at him. All he had to do know was pull the trigger with no effort at all. It was going to be another victory for the Klan. The Almighty was going to honor him gifts and a ticket to heaven!

That was until his knee exploded.

Matthias came out of the brush, smoke still escaping his gun as he stood to his full height. He witnessed his target scream in pain, traumatized by the grievous wound on his knee. There was no way he was going to be standing up ever again.

A sick feeling entered the young kid's mind. He never shot a person before, and he shouldn't be grieving over a member of the Klan, but the agony Matthias gave him was a bit shocking. He didn't want to kill the man, all he wanted to do was stun him with a shot to his leg. But he never knew how powerful a small .44 round was until now.

Damian stood up, and hurried over to the Klan leader, who was now crying with the loss of his kneecap. Blood and pieces of meat were scattered around the grass, showing the true might of Matthias's rifle. Damian took his pistol and swiftly ended the leader's misery. He looked at Matthias, who was lost in his own thoughts. "Thanks for that," he muttered.

Matthias nearly jumped in fright. He nodded slowly before looking around the area, where his dead allies littered the ground. He noticed that the Blade Bug was nowhere to be found, but he wasn't too focused on it. It probably fled somewhere. Afterall it did sound terrified when it knew the Klan was attacking them.

When it spoke to him.

Damian smacked his shoulder. "We have to leave. Now." In the distance, Matthias could hear unfamiliar and rough voices approaching them. Acting quickly, he sprinted over to the brush to pick up Patrick.

"What the hell is going on?" The criminal asked as he was helped up by his young comrade,

"The Klan is coming," Damian said, running in front of them. "We need to get the hell out of here!"

Patrick nodded before wrapping his good arm around Matthias. Despite now being pumped with adrenaline, we was still too tired to move on his own. Luckily for him, Matthias was more than strong enough to move rather quickly.

The three survivors ran into the treeline, entering the unmarked territory of the forest. They were at the mercy of God now, which didn't do well to boost their confidence in survival.

It was going to take an entire miracle and then some for them to make it out of this mess alive.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for waiting for this. I know it took forever. Just to clarify this, since a couple of people were freaking out, I am _not_ cancelling this story. Not now not ever. This story will be completed even if it kills me. Well... if it killed me, technically, I wouldn't be able to- you know what I mean!**

 **Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this, and stay tuned! There _will_ be more coming!**


	5. Chapter 4: Neither Shepard nor Trail

Chapter 4: Neither Shepherd nor Trail

The day was lovely as always. A bit chilly, but it was winter, so the brisk breezes and frosty air was expected. The trees and shrubs filled every tiny crevice on the ground, painting their kingdom with a hungry and dulling green. A river tore through the soil and earth, and continued to run on its path with white, foamy water. Another lovely day in the wilds of a scarred Earth.

A lone creature dared to venture out into the small meadow that was the riverbank, despite its rather tiny size. It was obviously tired and thirsty, its body urging it to take a small sip from the river, even if it costed it its life. Who knew what predators could be lurking in the trees, waiting to spring on anything foolish enough to drink from the holy water flowing through the middle of the woods?

It was indeed a tiny creature, no more than two feet high, maybe even less so. Its build was that of an Old World canine of sorts, perhaps more akin to a jackal or fox, if they even existed anymore. Its eyes were large and attentive, which made sense considering it was young and not yet ready to become a predator on its own. Its fur was dark gray, with an even darker tuft of fluffy fur around its neck, like a natural scarf.

What made it stand out was the splotches of dark red it had. Red covered it's tiny, stubby paws, and its eyelids were painted with the same hue, as well as the tip of the fluff on its head. In truth, it could be described as a mythical being in foreign folklore.

It anxiously paced itself towards the running water of the river, occasionally glancing with fear in its eyes as it scanned the areas for any threats that may be looking for a quick and easy meal. Who knew what could be hiding just around the corner? Carefully, it nearly crawled towards the water, its hairs standing on end as it did. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the tiny creature was close enough for a drink.

Thunder echoed from the trees. An artificial sound that would never emit from nature herself.

Instinctively, the small creature fled into the brush, throat still parched. It made a single jump into a bush, where it was completely out of sight.

Matthias rushed towards a tree with Patrick wrapped around him. Both of them were breathing heavily, as they spent the most recent event of their lives running as fast as their bodies would allow before they passed out. Patrick released his grip to rest against the tree. He placed his back against the rough and cracked bark and slid down until his haunches touched the ground, struggling to keep his breath the whole time.

Damian was the last one to join them, busy aiming down his pistol sights at any potential threats that may be lurking within the woods. He was also out of breath, but the adrenaline that surged through him kept him on his toes. He was glancing at every single sound that signaled movement, and his weapon moved with his eyes.

Minutes passed, and everything became silent. More minutes passed, and everything was still noiseless and unstirred. Damian released a breath, as if he had been holding it in for hours. He carefully placed his pistol back in the leather holster on his thigh, making sure that it could be whipped out again in case he needed it.

"Holy," Patrick muttered, catching his breath, "holy shit."

Matthias looked around, paying attention to any tiny detail that may have warned him of any danger. He was struggling to keep himself on his feet, but fear and adrenaline forced him to stand upright and attentive. "Is it over?"

Damian was quiet for a few moments, cautiously scanning the area with his palm on his pistol. "For now?" He started, still twisting his head around. "I'd say we're fine from the Klan, but…" he trailed off, fumbling around in his pockets for a simple tool. He did eventually find it, and his eyes brightened when he clutched onto it. It was a small, blue compass, fully capable of showing direction with pinpoint accuracy. It was also broken. "We're stuck out here with no map or… sonofabitch!" He tossed the compass on the ground, shattering the useless piece of garbage into more pieces of even more useless garbage.

"So, we're lost?" Matthias asked, already aware of what the answer was.

Patrick scoffed. "Great. Lost here in a forest full of monsters that will have a definite interest in our recent confrontation."

"We are _not_ lost!" Damian stomped on the bits of compass that survived. "And will you shut the hell up?! I've had enough of your mouth!" He unstrapped his bag and brought it to the ground in front of him, and then fumbled around in its contents. He cursed for a moment before bringing out a plastic box of some kind. He emptied the contents of the box, which was just stray bullets of varying calibers, back into his bag, then unsheathed the hunting knife from his belt. "Okay, okay, so…" He scratched a large line into the box, the formed an arrow pointed in the direction in front of him. "We came from there, right?"

Matthias scratched his head, confused as to what Damian was trying to accomplish. "I guess?"

"Did we come from there?! Yes, or no!" Damian raised his voice, something that he rarely did.

Matthias nodded his head furiously. "Yeah, yeah! We came from there. I'm sure of it!"

Patrick sighed before dragging his palm over his face. "We're so fucked," he whispered.

Damian scratched another directional arrow, perpendicular to that of his initial arrow. "Right, so we have to go this way for a couple of miles to avoid the Klan, if they're still even there. After that, we'll travel back this way," he traced his initial line with the tip of his knife, "then hopefully, we'll make it to Whiskey before sundown."

Patrick sighed. "And what if the Klan attacks Whiskey? The Klan wouldn't be this close just to come and drop by for a while then leave. Have you even thought this all through?"

Damian shook his head. "The Klan will not attack Whiskey. Even though we're free territory, we still are big business partners with the Patriots. Attacking us is like signing a declaration for war."

Patrick scoffed. "Oh, sure. The Patriots will totally risk their soldiers to save our little town. You're more delusional than you're Musketeer leader."

Matthias realized something just then. Thomas, his idol, was dead. Murdered by the Klan. He could relive the moment when he heard the deafening crack of thunder that echoed throughout the woods. He could only imagine how weak and powerless he must've felt when the Klan leader was standing above him.

"Hey! Matthias!" A familiar voice shouted. "Did you get that?"

Matthias broke his trance to stare at Damian. Reality was flooding back into his mind. "What?"

Damian sighed. "You're going to hold this, alright? And no matter what you do, you are not going to manipulate its direction." He was handing the young fool the map.

Matthias shook off any confusion that was in his mind. "Oh, okay."

Damian handed over the makeshift map, but before Matthias could receive it, he lurched it back suddenly. "Do not, whatsoever drop it or do anything else that could screw over the directions, understand?"

Matthias nodded, "Yeah, okay. I understand."

Damian took a moment, but then gave a satisfied hum in affirmation. "Guard it with your life, alright? If we're lucky, we'll make it home before dinner."

Matthias took the map, and kept it close to his chest, making sure to keep the directional arrows as accurate as humanly possible. His stomach growled at the mention of dinner, but he powered through it. Just a few more hours, and he would soon have something to eat.

Patrick stood up on his own, using the strength of his legs to slide up against the tree he was resting on. "So, is that you're plan?" He snarled with a condescending tone.

Damian scoffed, "As a matter of fact, yeah. That is the plan. What, do you have a better idea?"

Patrick sighed heavily, shaking his head. "No," he muttered finally. "Let's just get the hell out of here."

It was not a good day for the humans, and they all just wanted it to end already. Damian hoped that his plan would work, but they needed something akin to luck for it to actually succeed. Luck that they have yet to come across. He was hopeful, though, which must've meant something. Even though hope hasn't done much for them at all yet.

Matthias listened to his orders down to a T: he walked as straight as he could, keeping his eyes fixed to the map to make sure that it didn't move and inch from where it was supposed to be. The only thing that was running rampant was his thoughts. They weren't particularly pleasant thoughts either. All he could think about was the Klan, and how close they are to Whiskey. He couldn't help but wonder why the Klan was here in territory technically owned by the Patriots. What could they possibly want from a small town like Whiskey? It wasn't like they were making bullets for the Patriots, and they don't have an enormous plot of land, and the people there are way too "varied" to recruit as soldiers, or preachers, or whatever the hell they do.

Maybe that was it. Maybe they needed more…

Matthias gulped. The stories of the Klan always made him sick to his stomach, and now, he couldn't get the thought out of his mind. The Klan must've wanted more slaves. That was the only legitimate reason the Matthias could think of to explain why they may want to attack Whiskey. Then again, why specifically Whiskey? Maybe they were here originally for Charlottetown before it was decimated, as it had a much larger population than their small neighbors.

Matthias hoped they weren't attacking the town yet. Hopefully they happen to stumble upon a recon squad that was scouting the area for a plan of attack, and he hoped that they would get home in time to warn them. He hoped he would be able to warn his stepfather.

Time passed on, but Matthias was too distracted to tell if it was minutes or hours. His legs were starting to cramp and buckle under his own weight. His arms grew weak and fatigued, mistaking the nearly weightless box for something as a solid steel beam. He wondered how far they have traveled, and even if they were going the right way. He stood silent, however. Thankfully, Patrick was feeling the same thing, and didn't give a shit about offending a Musketeer.

"Do you even know where the hell we're going, Damian?" He inquired with his usual cynicism. "We've been walking in a straight line for about a goddamn hour now!"

Damian groaned, "And we'll keep going like this until I say so! We'll get home sooner if you can keep your damn mouth shut. Jesus…" He muttered something under his breath.

Silence returned to the group. At least until Matthias decided to open his mouth finally. "Damian," he said softly. "Can we just… take a break for a moment? I'm starving and getting tired."

Damian sighed, "Can't you just shake it off for a few more minutes? We're nearly there at the turning point."

Patrick's voice became a sentimental one, which was immediately odd. "Look, give the kid a break, okay? This day has been hard on him."

Damian stopped to turn around and face the criminal. "Oh shut up. We all know you are the one who would gladly take a break and halt our progress. Don't give that bullshit making me think that you care for him!"

Patrick scowled. "What, you don't think I like the kid? Why wouldn't I? He's the only person in our whole fucking town that _isn't_ an asshole!"

Damian chuckled sarcastically, "Oh, so _I'm_ an asshole?! Christ, if you want to see an asshole you should look in the fuckin' mirror!"

Patrick clenched his fist. "You're the one who goes around town with your buddies calling yourselves "Musketeers" so that everyone can see how high and mighty you guys are! You are the one who blindly follows orders like a dog, no matter what that order is! How does that not make you an asshole!"

"Will you two both shut up?!"

The two men turned their head in astonishment to see a pissed off Matthias, still holding the map like he was told to do. It was weird seeing the kid like that, as he was always calm and mellow. In fact, they both didn't know if someone like him could actually be angry at something. Yet there he was: red faced with a furrowed brow.

Damian sighed finally, letting his arms fall to the side. "You know what? Fine. Let's take a break. We're all tired and hungry, and it's throwing us off our game, so let's just relax a bit."

Patrick scoffed. "Finally."

Damian suddenly pointed at him. "I am not doing this for you. In fact, why don't you make yourself useful and find us some firewood?"

Patrick stuttered, confused at what he just said. "What? Why me?"

"Because I said so! Just because you lost an arm, doesn't mean that you are exempt from work." Damian ordered.

"Oh, yeah? And what if a monster swoops down and eats me, huh?"

"Then that means we have one less mouth to feed. Hop to it."

Patrick chuckled. "Oh wow, I guessed you proved me wrong. You're not an asshole at all! My mistake, Musketeer."

Damian didn't respond verbally, but instead lifted a single finger in the air, to which Patrick shook his head before heading in the woods. He glanced at Matthias, who was twiddling his thumbs together, unsure of what to do. "Well, come on, then. Help me make a pit. Go find some rocks or something while I dig a hole," he ordered, but in a lighter tone than with the criminal.

Matthias nodded. "Yes, sir." Without another word, the kid did as he was told to do. He carfully placed the compass on the ground, making sure that that arrows were still and jogged down passed a couple of trees, picking up spare rocks as he went. His legs ached as he moved, his stomach curled and gargle for sustenance, and his head was throbbing as his brain shouted at him to stop moving.

It was a long day that just needed to end, but it would be a while before the evening sun arrived. Sure, the winter days may have been short, but it was only just pass the afternoon, so they had a few more hours. Matthias was getting a bit worried, however; another night without a roof over his head was not a good way to start the week. He wondered if his stepfather was worried about him. He could imagine him closing down the bar to wait for that line of soldiers to march through town. The line of soldiers that was now whittled down to only Patrick, Damian, and Matthias himself.

Fifteen rocks. That's how many he had collected so far, and that's how much he was able to carry. They weren't very big rocks, but they were useable. Hopefully. Matthias rushed back to Damian, who looked like he was done kicking dirt off the ground, leaving the dark brown underbelly of the topsoil exposed in a circular fashion. Thank God the grass was a bit scarce when it was cold.

When Matthias dropped his collection of rocks on the ground, Damian let out a tired sigh. "That'll work, I guess. Why don't you gather a few more of those while I arrange them, yeah?"

Matthias scoffed, but nodded in affirmation. Without a single sound, he ventured back into the mysterious area of the nearby woods to collect more not-quite-so-large rocks. He didn't know why the rocks were important, or how they would help building a simple fire, but he never questioned it. He just silently obeyed; scraping up rocks as he dragged his aching body through the trees, which now seemed to be mocking him in some way. They just stood there and did nothing, making fun of the kid as he couldn't do the same.

Fifteen rocks. He counted them until he reached fifteen, not wanting to exceed his limits. And once again, he rushed to the Musketeer fire expert to drop off his collection of mediocre rocks they somehow needed to build an acceptable fire. Because, you know, the rocks were the most important part of any fire! Everyone knew that!

"Yeah, I'd say that's enough. You can drop them anywhere." The Musketeer was busy organizing the rocks in somewhat of a circular formation. He only stopped once he heard a loud thump erupt from behind him. Surprised, he twisted his head around to see Matthias lying on his back, with his pile of rocks tossed haphazardly on the ground.

Matthias took a moment to stare at the sky, his body finally thanking him for allowing him to shut down. Pass the tall green pine needles was the deep blue ocean of a sky with tiny white dots scattered here and there. He slowly grasped the ground, pushing the dirt away from his fingers as the small fuzz of dead grass and pebbles caressed his palms as he moved. Old and lifeless pine needles littered the ground, tickling the soft skin of his hand as his digits broke the earth. His mind was blank, and his eyes traced the clouds as they inched across the sky, hypnotized by their purity and serenity.

"Enjoying yourself?" Damian called. Matthias didn't respond much at all, only turning his head to the side until his eyes met with the Musketeer's.

The kid said nothing for a while, too tired to even speak. He opened his mouth slowly. "Is that a bad thing?"

Damian chuckled, "No, not at all. You've earned it, for sure." He sighed as he fell on his haunches, glancing around the trees nervously. "What is taking him so long?"

Matthias slowly turned his head towards Damian as he was constantly scanning for the criminal. The kid opened his mouth, but said nothing. He took a deep breath, relaxing on his bed of moss and soil. "You shouldn't be too hard on him," he found himself muttering.

Damian gave him an irritated look. He shook his head before facing the ground. "Matthias, look. I know you two are friends, or whatever, but he is not really helping us. If anything, he's weighing us down, so forgive me for being a little bit pissed off if he's taking a while gathering sticks for a basic fire."

Matthias sighed, annoyed once again by everyone dismissing Patrick as a person. He turned his head back towards the sky, ogling at its purity. His mind was wandering absentmindedly, not focusing on any particular thought or idea. Most of them were about returning home as soon as possible, or getting to see his stepfather once again. Others were calling the kid an idiot for deciding to join the force. Even from the get go, it was suicide; a bunch of untrained cannon fodder up against armored creatures with swords that replaced their arms. What the hell did he think was going to happen?!

Patrick was right. It was a suicide mission, and now they were the only ones living from their squad of at least twenty other people. Matthias saw a lot of his comrades get chopped up into bits like it was nothing. They truly never had a chance.

Then there was the ambush with the Klan. Why were they here, anyway? Were they just scouting? If so, then for what? There was a lot of thing Matthias didn't know about the Klan, but he did know that they were well equipped and well trained, and finished the rest of the weaklings they had on their squad. Including Thomas. It wasn't even an admirable death either; he was just simply executed after being immobilized. "I can't believe he's gone," he muttered.

Damian made a loud sigh before running his fingers through his rough, greasy hair. "Yeah, he is… What the hell am I going to say to Hannah? What the hell am I going to say to Sasha?!" He slammed his fist on the ground. "Christ," he whispered. "We're the only ones left."

Matthias got up from his restful position to sit on his backside. He couldn't see the Musketeer's face, due to him grasping his hair with his arms. "Damian?"

Damian slowly peeked at Matthias, revealing the small droplets of tears running down his face. "We have to get back home as quickly as we can, "he muttered. "We're the last of the guard post on this side. If the Klan attacks from here… Whiskey doesn't stand a chance."

Just then, the two humans heard a loud rustling near them, and instinctively shot up to their feet with their weapons drawn. They calmed their nerves when they noticed the familiar cripple. Matthias sat back down on his haunches, relaxing once more. Patrick walked over slowly towards the fire pit before dropping all of the pieces of wood he managed to collect.

"That's all I could carry," he said. He sat down slowly, wincing every once in awhile when the pain from his nonexistent arm shot through him.

"Well, that should be enough for a while," Damian muttered as he rummaged through his gear. He found his small beat-up lighter in no time, then started to pick up dead leaves and other small sticks from all around him. He placed them in the pit before building Patrick's collection in a triangular structure. With a single flick of his thumb, he set the dead leaves alight. It took a minute for the main part to catch the flames, but it still worked well enough. Damian sat back down, and warmed his freezing palms near the flames.

Matthias scooted over towards the healing heat of the fire, desperate to remove the numbness from the tips of his fingers. It was always a bit too frigid in the hours of the evening, but it would be much worse by nightfall. "Don't get too close, kid. You don't want to burn yourself."

Matthias glanced at Patrick, who was giving him a warning look. The kid slid away a few inches or so from the flames, still able to feel the heat, but at a much lower intensity than he may have wanted. Still, the last thing he wanted was to burn his fingers. He wouldn't be able to use the rifle on his back, and he had a feeling that he was going to need it soon.

Damian cleared his throat. "Patrick?" He called out in is demanding voice. The criminal looked over with a scowl, silent. "Can you take care of yourself here for a while?"

Patrick emitted something that sounded like a low growl. "Why do you ask?"

Damian retrieved the battered submachine gun strapped to him, unloading the magazine attached to it. One by one, he counted the brass shells within the hollow metal bar. "Twenty-two," he muttered. "Plus one in the chamber." He fumbled around in his pockets until he retrieved another magazine for his gun, complete with thirty live rounds. It wasn't much for another firefight with the Klan, but it would be just enough for a couple of monsters.

Patrick snarled. "So, are you not going to say why you need me to take care of myself?"

Damian sighed. "Matthias and I are going to look for some food. I don't have a lot of heat left, but we are going to hunt for berries, alright? There should be some around here. So, I need to know: can you take care of yourself?"

Patrick sighed, then pulled out his pistol from the holster on his hip. He grabbed it by the barrel and handed it over to the Musketeer, who was confused on what he was doing. A few moments of silence ensued before Patrick growled again. "Load the chamber, dumbass," he ordered.

Damian nodded and took the sidearm. With a single swift movement, he effortlessly pulled the barrel of the gun back, loading a single bullet inside the weapon. It was now ready to use. He handed the weapon back to its owner, who turned the safety on. "Seventeen shots," he said hoarsely. "I don't plan on reloading, so hurry up and do what you have to do."

Damian nodded, "Yeah." He stood up, making sure his gun was ready to fire. "Matthias, let's go. Quickly, we're burning daylight."

Matthias nodded and stood on his feet. He grabbed his rifle, making sure that is was loaded this time. He unlatched the cylinder. Six shots of pure destruction laid inside peacefully. All he had to do was be accurate. "I'm ready."

Damian shot him a confident smile. With a final head gesture, the two left the small camp, leaving the criminal behind. Matthias looked behind him to get one last glimpse of the campsite, waving his hand to Patrick, who waved back with his gun in his palm.

The evening sun was already setting upon them. They had about three or four more hours of daylight left, which meant that they had to hurry up and gather as much food as they could. Matthias took a moment to get a feel of how far they have traveled, and was surprised that he could no longer see their little camp. It didn't feel that long either.

Damian suddenly halted in his tracks, extending his arm in front of his young comrade to force him to do the same. He unsheathed a large hunting knife from the leather scabbard attached to his thigh, and promptly sliced a chunk of bark from the tree next to him. Additionally, he carved an arrow on the soft yellow wood inside the tree that pointed towards the location of the camp.

While he was doing this, Matthias took in the surrounding scenery. From all the stories that he was told, this location was to be some sort of national park, or something along those descriptions. Trees were already growing wildly and unkempt before the Great War, so it shouldn't have looked much different from twenty years ago. He was actually grateful for that, as the torn cities and open grasslands left from the bombs have a significantly higher mortality rate than in the forest. At least, that's what he was told. It must've been true, though, as the trees and greenery did provide a lot of good cover, and diminished the chances of being seen.

Unfortunately, that same fact also applied to the monsters. Anyone of those terrifying and brutal demons could be hiding anywhere, and would never be seen until it was far too late. It also didn't help Matthias that he felt like he was being watched. He was sure that somewhere in those tall trees, or in those bundles of dead grass was a pair of evil eyes wishing death upon him.

Damian cleared his throat. "Hey, kid." Matthias snapped out of his thoughts and gave his attention to his leader. "How do you feel about splitting up?"

A short wave of shock zapped Matthias into confusion. "What do you mean? Why would we want to split up?"

"Look, we ain't got much time left, alright, and we are not coming back here at night," he explained. "So we need to haul ass if we want to get something to eat. If we split up, we have a better chance of finding a good tree or bush or wherever those things grown from, alright? So, do you want to split up? It's your choice."

Matthias thought for a moment. He could remember when his father taught him how to hunt for berries. Tracking prints on the ground, noticing where weeds were growing, he could recall most of what he needed to do to find a bush of berries. He also knew that he had plenty of ammo to survive on his own for a day, let alone a couple of hours.

"Yeah." Matthias nodded. "I can handle myself."

Damian smiled. "Alright then. Whoever brings back the most shit gets a drink. On the loser's tab, of course." He held out his fist.

Matthias let out a chuckle before meeting his comrade's fist with his own. A universal sign of accepting a challenge. "You're on."

Damian let out a short laugh before strolling down his own path of the forest. Suddenly he turned his head around. "Hey! Kid!" He shouted. "Make sure to mark the trees! You do not want to get lost here."

Matthias smiled, then unsheathed his knife that was issued to him when he backed a guard. He raised it in the air and waved it for Damian to notice, to which he responded with a thumbs up.

Matthias was alone with nothing but the crunching of leaves to accompany him. He didn't mind being alone, despite being rather social in Whiskey, especially with customers in his stepfather's bar. In fact, he learned to enjoy solitude when it met him. He would've loved to sit down and embrace the natural beauty around him, but he had a job to accomplish, and had only an hour or so to do it.

Something was wrong, though. Matthias could feel it. The forest was rather quiet and devoid of life, which could be a result of the gunfire from the Klan. Yet, it could've also meant that predators were around, and Matthias was in the middle of their territory.

A loud rustling erupted from behind the young human, forcing him to tense up and squeeze the handle of his rifle. His breathing became quick and erratic. It wasn't just a feeling anymore; he _knew_ he was being watched.

Images of that female Blade Bug that they have managed to capture flashed in his mind. He knew it was never killed and escaped its bindings. It was out to find him. It was going to kill him.

Silence.

The human stood there, legs trembling as he pointed his rifle at nothing but a few trees that seemed to pose no threat to him. He turned and swiveled, checking and rechecking any possible angle where he could be ambushed. All it took was one effortless swing to end his existence.

Nothing.

Pacing his breathing, Matthias felt like marking a tree. He placed his gun on the floor before unsheathing his knife from his hip. With a bit of strength, he sliced the bark away from the tree. Like Damian, he skinned the tree until it made some sort of a directional arrow pointing towards the way he came from.

A loud crack echoed through the trees.

It wasn't a gunshot, that much was obvious, but it still made the kid nearly piss himself. He snatched his gun from the dirt and brought it up to his face, expecting something to be there. Nothing faced him but the wind and the light. Nothing was there to kill him.

But he heard something.

Whimpering, it sounded like. Akin to that of an animal in pain.

Cautiously, Matthias followed his ears to locate the source. At first, it sounded like a small child, but once he got closer to the source, the grunts and soft growls meant that it was indeed a creature. What it was exactly, Matthias had no clue, but his morbid curiosity demanded him to find out. Clutching his gun tightly, he scooted up against a large tree, the cries for help getting louder and louder with every inch. He was sure it was right behind the tree he was leaning against.

He took a deep breath.

Like a bullet, he swiveled around the tree, ready to face the deadly monster with determination.

It was a tiny creature. Its fur was predominantly grey with a large black tuff of fur around its neck, with splotches of dark red dotting it's face and highlighting the fur on its head. It also had bright blue eyes filled with pain as the creature was hanging from a rope.

Mathias knew that trap well, as it was used by many people in Whiskey. They called it a "barbed noose." It was a rope that was laced with needles, shards of glass, basically anything that can cause something to bleed. It was usually supposed to catch the monsters by their necks, slitting the jugular. That way it would kill the monster, and allow the blood to lure other monsters to it. It was usually placed around areas where berries grew to keep the monsters away.

Unfortunately for the creature, it was caught by its hind leg. It was lucky that it was a small thing, otherwise the weight of it would've made the sharp materials to slice in its leg until the creature fell off. Matthias could see the blood dripping onto its fur, despite its paws being nearly the same red. Its eyes grew wide with fear when it caught sight of the human holding a powerful rifle.

It tried to squirm, but immediately stopped with a painful expression. Matthias shook his head. If only the trap caught its neck and not its paw, then it wouldn't be in so much pain. He raised his weapon towards the creature, and pulled the hammer back. An audible click resonated around the area, signaling Matthias that it was ready to fire. He let a single finger rest on the steel trigger.

The creature closed its eyes and whimpered like a small child, like it knew what was going to happen next. It was terrified, and Matthias knew it, but he also knew that he was putting the thing out of its misery. All it took was one movement of a finger, then it would be over. That's all it took.

So why couldn't Matthias pull the trigger?

He cursed silently, pointing his gun towards the ground. He paced, motivating himself to do his job. It was just a stupid creature, anyway, so who was going to miss it? Besides, he would be doing it a service! It was obvious that the animal was suffering, and Matthias could help it. A bullet to the brain would be completely painless. It wouldn't have felt a thing.

He brought the rifle up to the fox thing again, who was now just confused. Shouldn't its life be already nonexistent at this point? Matthias filled his lungs with air as slowly as he could before placing his index finger on the trigger. The creature closed its eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

But nothing came. No bullet. No sound. No death.

"Damn it!" Matthias shouted to himself. "What is wrong with me?" He paced again, trying to understand why his body wouldn't let him kill the damn thing. Why was he so morally conflicted about killing a freaking monster? What good are they if they were alive anyway?

Matthias stared at the dangling creature, who, in turn, stared right back at him. Matthias sheathed his rifle, carefully placing it in the holster on his back. He couldn't kill the thing. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't. He could see the terror in the thing's eyes when it gazed at him. It seemed that the thing wasn't too fond of humans, which was fitting since Matthias wasn't fond of monsters. They both ogled at each other for quite some time, unsure of what to do next. To Matthias's surprise, he found the creature quite… cute. It was looking at him with pleading eyes, begging the human to allow its life to continue.

Matthias sighed loudly, breaking the silence surrounding them. "Ok," he muttered under his breath. "Let's just get this over with."

He unsheathed the knife from his hip and approached the dangling creature, who squirmed and struggled as he did. Matthias tried to hush the creature, and ended up grabbing its back. He could feel the thing breathing erratically, obviously petrified. "Shh," he hushed. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a calming voice. "Just hold still, you're going to make it worse."

The tiny monster seemed to understand once Matthias touched it. It could feel the human's warmth radiate from his palms as he stroked its fur and calmed down just a little. His fingers went up to the rope that was tightly squeezing the thing's leg. He sucked in his teeth. "Gotcha pretty good," he whispered. "Whiskey sure knows how to make a good trap."

Carefully, he took his knife and brought it up to the barbed piece of rope. He held the creature in a way so that it's head was on his chest. It wasn't in a comfortable position, but it would be fine when the rope was sliced. He then started to cut the rope, moving the serrated blade back and forth against it. He struggled for a second, as he tried to get through the metal spikes and glass embedded within the trap.

He felt the creature's weight fall on top of him when he finished. He winced, feeling the razor sharp needles pierce through his shirt and in his abdomen. He almost dropped the poor thing out of instinct, but he held on thankfully. He placed the animal on the ground, eager to get the sharp trap off of himself.

The creature managed to shake off the rest of the trap, but could barely walk on its own. Matthias wanted to say that he was done and just leave, but there was no way the monster could survive on its own in that condition. A slight tingling sensation filled his nostrils as the air's scent mixed with the metallic odor of blood.

He wiped his nose and brought it to his face only to see it covered in his own blood. He cursed silently. "Not again," he muttered. He looked down towards the creature and scoffed. "This is the part when you are supposed to talk to me, right?" The creature said nothing, but tilted its head in confusion. Matthias shook his head.

He knelt down to face the monster, who was anxiously backing away from him despite the burning pain in its hind leg. Matthias was actually perplexed by its fear of him, as it is usually the other way around. He guessed that it was a youngling of sorts, but in that case, where was its parents? Surely it must've had a pack to look out for it. What if they were searching for him? Once they saw a human next to their wounded young, it would surely cause a commotion.

The little thing yelped in pain once more as it tried to distance itself from the human. Matthias thought for a moment before deciding to help the poor thing. For some reason, he couldn't stand seeing the creature in pain like that, in fact, he felt a sickness in his empty stomach. Sighing, he searched and fumbled with many of his pockets, searching for something that could be used to tend to the wound. "Crap." He looked back at the creature, who was still glaring at him with fear and caution. Matthias had absolutely nothing to stop the bleeding and ease the pain of the creature.

Unless…

Matthias quickly unwrapped the bandage that wrapped up his hand, revealing the busted knuckles that were underneath it. A good strip of it was not covered in dry crusty blood, which meant that it was still mostly sterile, hopefully. With his teeth, he ripped off the good strap of the bandage, tossing the rest of it on the ground. He touched the adhesive side lightly, making sure that it was still good to use. He smiled before approaching the monster.

It whimpered and painfully moved away from him, nearly backing into a tree. Matthias was starting to get annoyed. "Look, I'm trying to help you! Just let me put this on your leg, alright?" He approached the creature again, and once more, it backed away from him. This time though, it started growling at something, glaring at something behind the human.

Matthias turned his head, but saw nothing but the butt of his gun. He quickly realized that it _was_ the gun the creature was growling at. Matthias reached for his gun with the speed of a slug in a hurry, and stopped suddenly once he felt the wooden stock. The little creature was still growling softly, so Matthias used his free hand to perform friendly gestures in an attempt to calm its nerves. He slid the silver beast-killer from his back, glimmering in the rays of the low sun. The weapon was fully revealed shortly after.

The monster, who at first made brave signals at the weapon, was then trembling at the mere sight of it. It was obvious to the human that the thing knew what it was capable of. Cautiously, Matthias lowered the machine of death towards the ground, peacefully placing it on the ground, where it would harm nobody. He pushed it away from him, careful not to get any dirt on the bandage he was still holding.

"There," he said, breaking the uneasy tension. "That better?"

The monster glanced back and forth between Matthias and his gun nervously for a few moments before ogling at the human. Matthias approached the creature again, and this time it was a little more willing for him to do so. He extended his arms, aiming the bandage for its wound. It should've been considered to be lucky that the monster's hind paw was just the right size for the torn bandage.

The creature flinch when the adhesive met the holes in its leg. Matthias reeled back for a moment, scared of what the thing might do to him. It may have been small, but the rows of canine teeth it had looked excellent for stripping off flesh. And losing a good chunk of your arm due to a small and admittedly adorable fox thing would not have made a good campfire tale.

"I'm sorry," Matthias whispered sweetly. "Just… take in a deep breath."

He ignored the fact that he was talking to a wild animal like he would've towards a fellow human to help the little thing. Before the fox could react, the kid made a quick movement, wrapping the leg as quickly and as tightly as he could, forcing the injured thing to yelp in agony for a quick second. He kept on apologizing towards the thing while he made sure that the bandage was just tight enough to both add pressure to the wound and just lax enough to be comfortable. He was satisfied with his work.

"There! That should do it." He backed away and stood to his full height, towering above the monster.

The thing stood on all fours of its legs again, still with a slight limp, but it was better than an openly bleeding wound. At least it could walk now. It looked up at its human savior, and had a sparkle in its eyes as if it was actually grateful. It made Matthias smile a little.

"Okay, then, you can go now. Go on and live another day or something." He pointed towards his left. The creature swiveled its head back and forth between the path and the human, almost as if it was reluctant to leave. "Go on, go. You don't have much time left in the day."

The little fox started slowly at first, trying to stifle the little bit of pain radiating from its injury. It then broke out into small hops. It stopped for a moment to get one last glance at Matthias before hopping away into the woods.

Matthias shook his head. It was finally official: he was totally batshit insane. Why the hell did he help a bloodthirsty monster? Why the hell was he talking to it?!

A low growling noise interrupted his thoughts, reminding him what he was supposed to do in the first place. He was starving. He picked up his ground that lied on the ground to venture out to search for berries. Before he left the small clearing, he marked the tree where the trap was set by carving an arrow in the bark. He took in a breath, trying to mentally wipe away what had just transpired.

It was quiet once again, the air still in an uneasy silence as Matthias travelled through the woods. Leaves crunching underneath his boot was the only recognizable sound, and made Matthias feel vulnerable. Any beast lurking in the woods would've surely heard him from a mile off. He tried hard to keep his composure, but he was still twitching nervously every now and then. He had seen enough violence that day, and he sure as hell didn't want to be in another fight with something as agile as a Blade Bug.

Thankfully, he found what he was looking for. A tall shrub erected from the dirt, producing bright blue berries from its branches. It was perfect for picking too, and the aroma that filled around it was too glamorous to pass up. Sheathing his weapon, Matthias immediately picked one of the ripe and plump berries from the branches. He took a large bite into it.

A burst of flavor erupted in Matthias's mouth as he chewed the wonderful prize he had earned. He let out a moan of pure bliss and the sweet, syrupy juices rolled down his face. He enjoyed every single second of the taste, savoring every single slow movement he made with his mouth to stall the process of actually swallowing his meal. The pain in his stomach dulled with every bite until the entire thing was gone. Feeling greedy, he decided to take another one for himself. After all the shit he had to suffer through that day, he earned it.

A loud and single snap of a twig came from behind him.

Acting quickly, he retrieved his gun, a swiveled around the area. He saw and heard absolutely nothing, but felt a feeling that he felt earlier in the day. A strong feeling that disturbed the back of his mind.

He was being watched.

He wasn't sure by who, or by what, but he was damn sure about it. Ever since he separated from his Musketeer comrade, he felt a pair of soul-piercing eyes upon him. Was it that little fox thing again? Or was it something else?

He soon found out when he barely dodged a green blur.

He dropped the gun that was once clutched tightly in his hands in his attempt to gain a few moments of survival. Quickly, he sprung to his feet to meet his rival, who easily sliced straight through the shrub filled with berries.

It stood tall and proud on two legs, armored in a green exoskeleton that exposed the flexible joints. Its arms were nothing less than two huge swords that glimmered in the sun. Its transparent wings moved impatiently, and twitched with anticipation. It cracked a terrifying smile.

It was a Blade Bug, but not just any stray one that just happened to drop by. It was the same one that the humans had captured to bring back home. It was the same one that spoke to Matthias in an angry and haunting voice.

Matthias glanced at his gun, which was away from his reach. It was clear that he was never going to get it in time. He was really screwed this time. Just him, and a goddamn killing machine.

A chuckle interrupted the silence. " _Well, well. It's nice to finally see you again,_ " the Blade Bug muttered before raising its swords high in the air, ready for a final charge.

" _Murderer._ "


End file.
